Surviving Death
by chb76
Summary: Takes place after CSPWDT. Sam had wanted to help Dean with his grief but this time he couldn't. He simply couldn't find the words that would make it alright and now Dean had hit self destruct and Sam was powerless to stop it.
1. Chapter 1

**_Takes place after CSPWDT. Sam had wanted to help Dean with his grief but this time he couldn't. He simply couldn't find the words that would make it alright and now Dean had hit self destruct and Sam was powerless to stop it._**

**_A/N _**_So yeah just for a change Dean's copping for it and Sam's trying his hardest to help- as usual- but sucking at it big time - what's a little brother to do?_

_I know I'm torturing Dean AGAIN but my next fic which I'm working on alongside this will be more Sam whumpage, I just did this one first for chronological reasons._

_Some minor references to first fic "Fall to Pieces" because you know I like things to carry on, but it's not essential for you to have read it. And yes you can expect lots of angst. Lots. Did I mention lots? T rated for language and a little violence in coming chapters._

**Surviving Death**

_"Dad's dead because of me...I was dead- and I shoulda stayed dead...So tell me; what can you possibly say to make that alright?"_

_Two men who were little more than boys stood side by side leaning on the car that was the next best thing to a home. Death had played a huge part in their short lives and now death was threatening to destroy them. The eldest who should've left the earth for certain on two occasions was facing the possibility of living the remainder of his life with the knowledge his father had sold his soul to allow him to live and continue the journey that he had set him on as a small boy. Having this information forced upon him had been taking an unbearable toll and cracks were beginning to show in the usually stoic and unshakeable hunter. The youngest who had witnessed his father's death after an exchange of words he knew he would never be able to retract had made various attempts at drawing out the eldest's guilt and grief but now when faced with the words his brother had finally been able to voice he had been unable to find anything of help or comfort._

To say Sam was shocked was an understatement. He knew Dean was struggling with their father's recent death but to finally hear that he believed he should have died instead shook his foundations leaving him speechless and at a total loss. Sam had been cajoling his brother to talk to him about what was going on his messed up head and Dean predictably had resisted. But now his hardened, "no chick flick moments" older brother had broken in front of his very eyes confessing the darkness he felt within him. Sam thought it ironic that the moment Dean had finally been able to trust him with the shadows that haunted him was the moment he froze and could find no words of consolation. Nothing that could make it alright. Desperately and hopelessly searching for words he knew he would never find he simply remained at his brother's side offering merely his presence and what he hoped was a comforting silence and praying that that would be enough.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't enough because the grief and guilt that Dean was feeling could not be put into words and couldn't be erased by a good night's sleep and an understanding look. He'd instantly regretted opening up to his younger brother, it had helped no one, not him nor Sam. _See I told you it was pointless._ Caring and sharing wasn't his gig and evidently he was right to shy away from talking about the horrors that disturbed his dreams as there was no cure or answer only silence. A never ending silence which only fuelled the conviction that he had been spared because his father had made an unspeakable arrangement with something so evil, no human should ever have to lay eyes on it. He knew there was nothing Sam could say, but a small part of him had hoped that Sam's usually sharp brain would come up with something that would let him know he wasn't losing his mind. Something that would make all this go away and make everything alright. But there was nothing. It wasn't Sam's fault it was just how it was. But what scared him the most was how empty he felt. Hate and anger and pain he could deal with but this emptiness that he couldn't shake: it left him void and numb and full of nothing. That was it. He was void. Null. He shouldn't exist - he was a non person. His existence was now meaningless because he simply shouldn't be.

And there was nothing Sam or anyone could say that would change that fact.

When they arrived at the motel Sam was not surprised that after checking in, Dean headed straight for the nearby bar. Sam followed of course and sat with him in silence as his brother knocked back shot after shot. He watched as the light slowly left his eyes and was replaced by an emptiness and darkness that terrified him. They said nothing but Dean continued to drink until his head could no longer hold its own weight and Sam had to half carry, half drag him back to their room.

The next morning Dean was quiet and moody. Not irritating or snarky just - empty. Sam couldn't bear what could only be described as the complete lack of anything resembling his brother in Dean's eyes and the growing feeling of helplessness that was threatening to crush him. Dean spent the rest of the day hitting on as many women as he could. Sam hung out with him in the bar pretending to be busy with the lap top while Dean chatted to the latest beauty that had walked in. The amount of drinks he had consumed were affecting his memory resulting in a mix up of names and forgetting that the tall blonde who was called Sherry not Lizzy and had been informed that she was "the most wonderful creature he had ever laid eyes on" had just paid a visit to the ladies room and was now stood behind him while he used the same line on a pretty brunette with green eyes named Carla not Bridget. This earned him a slap in the face from the blonde and a martini in the face from the brunette and he still couldn't remember their names.

Sam had looked up giving him the narrow eyed You're Being a Jerk look and Dean had simply pasted on his Give-a Shit? look and swaggered off back to the room to change his shirt before returning with the sole intention of getting laid before bedtime. Which of course he achieved with very little effort.

The third day Dean spent propping up the bar. Sam had attempted to cajole him into helping him with his research but Dean had simply looked at him with dark soulless eyes and Sam had walked away defeated. When Dean returned to the room it was well into the early hours and his knuckles were bloodied and his face bruised. Sam cleaned him up without saying a word and put him to bed to sleep off the effects of the alcohol that was slowly poisoning his brother and slowly destroying Sam.

The fourth day they received a phone call.

_To be continued. Thanks for reading- please be patient this could take a while..._


	2. A Psychic is For Life Not Just

**Chapter 2**

_A Psychic is for Life Not Just for Christmas _

Rick Siler was an old family friend of the Winchesters from long before the demon destroyed the lives of two small boys and their doting parents. He had seen the agonising downfall of John Winchester and witnessed first hand the devastating effects of the obsession which had taken over his once idyllic existence. Rick had attempted to help John through his grief encouraging him to focus on his sons who so desperately needed him but after finding John's version of the truth impossible to believe, had been gradually pushed away by the man's growing obsession to find the creature which had destroyed his family. Rick had long since moved north and settled in Minnesota with his brother who owned a large amount of land which was used mainly for hunting and fishing. Hikers and tourists would often venture into the large expanse of woods and it was these hikers and tourists that had become the problem. Or rather their mysterious disappearances.

Some years ago before Sam left his family in favour of college John had answered a desperate plea from his old friend who had begun to have second thoughts about his beliefs on the supernatural and such kind. Disappearances and strange sightings had left him both nervous and curious and he had braved the notorious area of woods to investigate. He had been horrified and shell shocked by what he had seen and immediately thought of John who wasn't at all surprised to hear about the Wendigo, which had been causing havoc and offered his assistance without hesitation. When John had disposed of the creature he had tried his hardest not to appear smug and vindicated but it had been difficult. The two had remained in contact ever since after Rick had begged John's forgiveness for not believing and supporting him. With a twinkle in his eyes John had simply laughed it off saying that he wouldn't have believed him either.

After hearing about John's death from mutual acquaintances he had been saddened and shocked that the man's mission had eventually defeated him and had managed to get in touch with his two sons to express his condolences. The youngest, Sam had been pleased and touched to hear from him and thanked him for his concern after reassuring him that they were both doing fine. Rick had been unconvinced but decided it wasn't his place to interfere and told Sam not to be a stranger. That was the last time he had heard from either of the boys and had often considered calling just to say "hi," but for some reason he hadn't got around to it.

The land that Rick's brother owned was in places rugged and unfriendly which made it the perfect habitat for beings not known to most humans to hide out until they needed to feed. He had been unnerved by several reports of hikers failing to return form their expeditions and in particular a middle aged couple who had not been seen since setting off to explore the woodland and the various fishing lakes. People did go missing on occasions but something about this particular report had him thinking that it wasn't a simple animal attack. A walking stick, a map and a rucksack had all been found around a mile in from the roadside but there was no sign of blood and no animal tracks. It was this reason that had made him pick up the phone and call the only two people he knew would be able to help.

Sam watched his brother as he chatted pleasantly with the man who he hadn't seen since he was in his late teens. The creature that Rick spoke of immediately made Sam think of a Wendigo until he had heard that there had been no blood trails or disembodied limbs. Flicking through his father's journal he tried to get the attention of his brother who was slumped over the table in their room trying to hold up his painfully throbbing head. Coffee and painkillers hadn't helped Dean's hangover and the bruise on his cheek had spread into a painful mass of purples and reds which obviously wasn't aiding his condition. Sam rolled his eyes still making conversation with the man who would provide them with their next job and who had promised he would make it worth their while. After promising to be there as soon as possible Sam said his goodbyes and hung up the phone before turning to the hung-over wreck that was his brother.

"You better look lively Dean, we got a hunt."

"No hunts, need sleep." the weariness and discomfort was evident in Dean's voice but for once Sam wasn't being sympathetic. It was self inflicted after all and Sam's patience could only stretch so far.

Using a knitting needle he had recently acquired he irritably scratched at the skin under the cast he had finally had put on his broken hand. He had paid a visit to the nearest hospital while Dean was busy with one of his conquests and was a little put out at how the nurse had scolded him for leaving it so long. It had only been a couple of days and it wasn't his fault that he had to keep an eye on his older brother who was nearly as irritating as the intense itching under the plaster. Sighing and groaning with pleasure as the needle did its work he again looked up at his brother who was giving him a strange look.

"What?"

Dean nodded at his little brothers cast.

"Would the two of you like to be alone?"

Sam made a face.

"It itches."

"Yeah? Well at least you don't feel like someone cut open your brain and took a crap in it."

Sam looked away and continued flicking through the journal, "Yeah, well you did that all by yourself, Dean."

"Y' know that's not entirely true. Personally I blame the whisky."

Sam looked up briefly, eyes narrowed and Dean recognised it as the I'm Not Even Going to Dignify That With a Response look.

Dean pulled a face and closed his eyes again.

"What we hunting anyway?"

Sam didn't look up, "Not sure."

"Hm some use your are. Thought you were supposed to be psychic."

"You know I can't control it. The visions come and go. I can't just pull one out of my ass when it suits."

"Can you pull a hangover cure out of your ass?"

Sam continued to scan the journal, "Yeah, it's called 'don't drink too much in the first place,' "

Dean lifted his head and opened his eyes.

"That's cute; you know you should be a doctor. Or - or maybe an annoying as hell little brother who's sole purpose in life it is to make life hell for his older brother and generally piss him of and kick him when he's down. Oh- oh wait minute you already are!" Dean instantly regretted raising his voice when his head complained forcing him to rest it back on to the table.

"Actually Dean, you seem to be doing a pretty good job of that yourself."

"My head hurts."

"Well you got as long as it takes us to reach Minnesota to get it together. Rick's a good friend and we're not gonna let him down."

Dean opened his eyes briefly to answer his brother:

"Friend huh? You haven't seen him since you were an angsty, whiny little teenager. As opposed to the angsty, whiny all grown up little bitch that you are now."

Sam ignored the insult, "Come on, get up we're going. We'll get breakfast on the way." he stood to gather up their belongings and when Dean failed to move himself called back annoyed:

"Dean! Move your sorry ass_."_

Dean pulled a face mimicking his little brother under his breath before reluctantly pushing himself up off the table and began irritably stuffing the few items he had unpacked into his bag.

Sam was glad to be back on the road. His brother's drinking was becoming a worry and he hoped that a hunt might be just what they both needed. The long drive to their destination wasn't a cause for concern to him as he knew Dean would sleep most of the way, meaning he could put the radio on and not suffer his brother's obnoxious taste in what he liked to call music. Personally he preferred a sound that didn't make him want to reach into his own head and remove his brain but it was rare he was given a choice. The inoffensive sounds from the radio and his brother snoring softly were enough to ease his worries and concerns and for the first time in weeks he actually felt relaxed. The coming hunt was likely to be straight forward. He wasn't entirely sure what their prey was but he had his suspicions and if they were correct it would be a cakewalk.

It was a little known secret in the hunting world that Sam Winchester was a psychic. He hadn't yet mastered his abilities of course and they came and went seemingly without control or warning, causing the young hunter extreme pain and disorientation. He wasn't really sure why he had them; whether it was a recent addition to his genetic makeup or an ability which had lay dormant since birth was a mystery to him but it was something he tried not to think about. There was the odd occasion when he had tried to visualise something and possibly predict an outcome but so far he had been unsuccessful in maintaining any sort of will or control over the debilitating premonitions. It was for this reason that Sam Winchester was unable to predict the chain of events which the phone call from an old family friend had begun. It was for this reason that Sam Winchester had cheerfully begun a journey with his brother, blissfully unaware of the consequences that would soon arise. And it was for this reason that Sam Winchester was completely unaware that this apparently harmless decision would inevitably lead to an event that would finally push his brother over the edge.

_To be continued_

_Sorry nothing much happening yet- but it will soon. Promise._


	3. The Hunt

_Thanks to everyone who's reading and sticking with this; especially thanks to those who left comments - it means a big, huge, massive lot. Hopefully the next chapter/chapters won't be too long after this. _

**Chapter 3**

**The Hunt**

The brother's crossed the Minnesota state border just as the sun was going down. It had been a long and tiring journey for the younger of the two, who had taken on the entire drive allowing his brother to sleep off the effects of the alcohol he had poured into his body the previous night. They had taken a breakfast stop and several more along the way to re-fuel both the car and their own stomachs. Sam had already called Rick to let him know that they would start work the following morning knowing they would both be too exhausted to do anything but sleep when they finally arrived at the bed and breakfast that Rick was paying for. Rick had told Sam they were more than welcome to stay with him and his brother but that it would be crowded and noisy even in their generously sized home due to an onslaught of family members mainly consisting of excitable grandchildren who had come to visit for the next two weeks.

Sam had smiled saying that it would probably be best for all concerned if they bunked down in a cheap motel. Rick would hear nothing of it and had promised to book them a room in one of the more expensive bed and breakfasts in town. Sam had said that that wouldn't be necessary but Rick had insisted, telling Sam not to worry about the bill and that it would be taken care of. Sam had thanked Rick profusely who called back shortly after with the details of where they would be staying.

By the time they arrived it was dark and Dean appeared to be finally recovering, his tone slightly less irritable and grouchy than he had been when they set off late that morning.

"Hum nice place. A little too upmarket for us don't y'think."

"Rick's paying. He insisted." Sam shrugged at his brother who was giving him a look that suggested disapproval.

After parking the car the brothers made their way, bags over their shoulders, into the homely looking and extremely inviting bed and breakfast.

"A cheap motel would've been fine Sam."

"Like I said, Rick insisted. Besides it'll be nice to live in comfort for a few days."

Dean grunted. Sam thought to himself that it was pride rather than a lack of gratitude that was contributing to his brother's attitude. Dean hated to be in anyone's debt and he liked to be able to pay his own way. Sam tried to convince him that this wasn't in anyway accepting charity.

"Look if it makes you feel any better, just see it as a down payment on the job we're gonna do for him."

"This has nothing to do with that. I prefer cheap motels. I like how they smell."

Sam smiled at the woman at reception who after taking down the false name he had given her, handed Sam the keys to their room.

"Quit complaining, man," Sam headed up the stairs to their room Dean trailing behind like a grumpy teenager.

"Hey you're the one who wanted to take this job. Don't have go at me if I'm not all crapping myself with excitement just to be here."

"Dean what is with you? Since when do you cop out on a hunt? What happened to all that 'The Job' coming first crap you used to throw at me?"

"I'm done with the job. We don't get sick pay, or vacation entitlement, and I'm pretty sure we don't get a pension. Does that sound like a job anyone you know would take?"

Unlocking the door and entering, Sam threw his bags on the bed.

"You're whining like a little girl dude. And you're pissy because I dragged you away from Carla or whatever her name was."

Dean looked up puzzled, "Who's Carla?"

Sam ignored the query, "Look, why don't you get some sleep and I bet you'll feel better by the morning."

Dean dumped his bags and walked across to the window looking out across the town.

"Sleep? You kidding me? I was thinking of checkin' out the local pool in that there bar over yonder."

"Dean we got a hunt tomorrow, I need you on top of your game, not hung-over like you have been every day recently."

"I thought you said this was gonna be a straight forward hunt. Maybe you can handle it alone huh Sammy?"

"You're kidding me right?"

"Hey, this hunt was your idea man."

"_Dean_..."

"Look I never wanted to come here. This was _your_ gig; I was all set for taking it easy for a few days."

"You're not bailing on me man," Sam's anger was rising which only seemed to further encourage Dean's petulance. There was a pause as the two brothers eyed each other until finally Dean backed down.

"Fine I'll help you hunt the stupid thing, seeing as you obviously can't handle it on your own."

Sam sighed still annoyed at his brother's childishness.

"I'm gonna get some sleep, you'd do well to do the same." Dean simply grinned at his little brother who glared back and watched furious as Dean gave him a little wave before heading out of the door.

Sam huffed in disgust shaking his head infuriated and continued to unpack his things. It wasn't long before Sam hit the sack and Dean hit the bars with the intention of earning some extra cash, knocking back some beers and maybe even getting himself a cheap lay. He wasn't to be disappointed.

Several hours later, Dean returned. It was three am and Sam had been long asleep but it wasn't to be for much longer. Waving a wad of cash at his half asleep little brother who had been rudely awakened by the sound of him falling over the small garbage can which had somehow found its way to Dean's unruly feet, he gave his sibling a huge grin saying in a ridiculously loud whisper:

"S-ssorry did I wake you?!"

"Dude, what, are you _drunk_?"

"No. No. Not. Not. At. All. Notatall." Dean's slurred speech gave him away instantly and Sam sat up annoyed and disgusted his eyes still half closed.

"What is wrong with you?" Sam hissed furiously trying not to disturb their neighbours in the adjoining room.

"Nothing wrong S-Sammy, I'm good. You? Hey look what I won," again waving the cash at Sam and then throwing it in the air giggling, "I gotta tell you man, the locals, they really, really, um … _really_ s-ssuck at pool."

"Dean it's three o'clock in the morning," the tone was still hushed but just as annoyed. "We have to meet Rick in four hours!"

"That's all I need Sammy." Dean grinned as he collapsed fully dressed onto his bed after only managing to remove his boots.

Sam scowled, dropped back down on to his bed and turned away from Dean pulling the covers furiously over his head as his brother began to snore.

The brothers were only slightly late meeting Rick the next morning. They had eaten breakfast after Sam had insisted they needed to eat before a hunt although Dean had pleaded with Sam to let him have ten more minutes sleep instead. Sam had practically had to drag Dean out of bed and force him into getting dressed. After breakfast and a worryingly excessive mount of coffee, Dean had begun to perk up. Popping more than a few pick me up pills which he had bought from a pharmacist, Dean had winked at Sam who looked on eyes wide, mouth gaping in disbelief, before getting into the drivers seat of the Impala.

"Dean maybe I should drive."

"No way. You've had your hands on my girl for way too long already." then tuning his attention to the car he cooed, "Its ok baby, I'm back now."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat praying they wouldn't get stopped by any traffic cops.

By the time they arrived at Rick's, Dean was wired. The effects of the caffeine and the pep pills combined with the alcohol which was still in his system were affecting Dean's behaviour and it concerned Sam gravely. Dean never acted like this so close to a hunt, he was never that irresponsible. Sure their prey- if Sam was correct - was an easy one but Sam knew better than to take anything for granted. He decided he would have to be extra vigilant and make sure he kept a close eye on his older brother in case he did anything stupid or reckless.

Rick greeted the brothers with a grin and a handshake, once again telling them how sorry he was about their dad. Sam nodded and smiled slightly while Dean looked in the opposite direction pretending he hadn't heard. Showing them a map of the area they would be investigating Rick asked the brothers if they had any idea what it was they were dealing with. Sam smiled and said he had a fair idea but couldn't be absolutely certain. Setting off together in Rick's jeep Sam explained to Rick that he believed the creature that was attacking hikers was possibly what was known as a Wood Wraith. A fairly easy creature to disable and/or kill assuming you could catch it.

"A Wood Wraith huh? Can't say I ever heard of such a thing."

"Well they're quite rare, but well known of in the hunting world. My dad killed one once but I've never seen one myself."

"Well that'd be tricky Sammy considering they're practically invisible." Dean's tone was sarcastic but upbeat. He was speaking much faster than normal and it made Sam nervous.

"Dean's not entirely correct," Dean rolled his eyes pulling a face behind his brother's back.

"They _are _extremely difficult to see, but that's to do with their ability to camouflage themselves almost perfectly, but if you catch them while they're feeding, you can destroy them with a silver bullet through the skull."

"Which is why Sam's offered to be bait, aint that right Sammy? Huh? Sammy?" Dean called from his seat in the back punching his brother in the shoulder and grinning manically while Sam scowled back at him.

Rick gave them both an odd luck before turning back to the road.

"We're not far off now from where it's believed the hikers entered the woods. We're gonna leave the jeep by the road and take the path through the woods. We may have to walk a while before we find anything."

"Walking's good. We sure like walking don't we Sammy? Huh? Huh?" another punch to his little brother's arm.

"It's _Sam_." the youngest Winchester hissed, turning to face his brother who he was still furious with and who was beginning to sound like a hyperactive child. Dean just smiled back and then turned to look out of the window as if he didn't have a care in the world. Sam on the other hand was getting a bad feeling about the whole thing. This wasn't good. His brother hung-over and wired for a hunt? Since when did that ever happen? Something was very wrong. He had fooled himself into thinking that maybe Dean just needed to get this out of his system and blow off a little steam, but now he was beginning to wonder if Dean just wasn't on a downward spiral spinning faster and faster out of control. He was seriously concerned that if he didn't get a handle on his brother soon it would be too late. If it wasn't already.

Sam's fretting was put to a stop when Rick pulled over into a lay-by and gesturing that this was where their hunt began. The three men got out of the car setting off into the huge expanse of woodland, each of them carrying a weapon. Rick carried his usual, the one he used for hunting and a rucksack containing emergency supplies and first aid equipment. Sam's shotgun was loaded with rock salt and Dean carried the gun that would hopefully put the creature in the ground. It was loaded with silver bullets - the only thing which could permanently destroy the Wood Wraith. Dean had insisted that he be the one to carry it although Sam was reluctant considering his brother's state of mind, not to mention the alcohol he had consumed the previous night. Sam had to tell himself not to worry. At best Dean had an exceptional aim and even when he wasn't on form he was still better than most. This was after all a straight forward hunt. What could really go wrong?

"So," Rick began as the trio set off into the woods, "This Wood Wraith thing. What is it exactly and why is killing people?"

It was Sam that answered his query: "It needs to feed pure and simple. It consumes a person's energy- their essence. That's why there were no signs of attack or blood. It just kind of sucks your life right out of you. "

"Kind of like a Shtriga?" Dean gave his brother a worried look. He had not researched the being as well as Sam and was relying on his younger brother to provide the Intel.

"Yeah, kind of like a Shtriga."

Dean shuddered, "I_ love_ those."

Rick gave them both a sideways glance apparently slightly disturbed, "You boys are something else you know that?"

Dean smirked, "Why thanks, Rick, that's real kind of you to say so." Rick laughed as did Sam and then rolled his eyes as Dean pulled out some candy bars out of his jacket.

"Anyone for sugar?"

-------------------------------

After about half an hour of steady walking and seeing nothing unusual or suspicious, the three men stopped for a quick break and a drink of the water that Rick had stashed in his rucksack. Dean was feeling a little dehydrated although it had very little to do with the exercise.

Sitting himself down on a patch of grass he took a gulp out of the water bottle Rick had handed him.

"So I heard of Wraiths before. Nasty little buggers. But not Wood Wraiths. What's the difference?" Dean took a bite out of his third candy bar - he was having some serious sugar cravings.

"Well, I'm guessing the difference is, they hang out in the woods Dean," Sam's voice was dripping with sarcasm causing Dean to look momentarily embarrassed before shrugging and continuing to feed his face.

"You want one," he asked, his mouth full holding a bar out to his brother. Sam shook his head pulling a face.

"No, I'm good thanks."

Wiping his hands on his jeans Dean stood announcing he was "going to take a leak."

He wandered off a little way leaving Sam to wonder if he was going to throw down a few more of the pep pills he had in his jacket, that he didn't want Rick to see.

Rick took this opportunity to quiz Sam about his brother. He had noticed the young man seemed to be acting a little odd. He wasn't blind or stupid and he certainly knew a hangover when he saw one, even if it was tempered with caffeine.

"So, you wanna tell me what's going on with him, Sam?"

Sam looked awkward and shrugged.

"It's nothing really Rick. He's just been having a hard time that's all. You know, with dad."

Rick nodded giving Sam a sympathetic look.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you this son, but the booze only makes it worse."

Sam ducked his head giving Rick a lop sided smile and nodded before looking away. He guessed that Rick was obviously a lot sharper than he looked. Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from a short distance away calling them over. Startled they wasted no time in joining Dean who was scouring the woods ahead of him a concerned frown creasing his forehead.

"I heard something."

Sam came to his right side, "What, something as in human, or something as in not?"

"Not sure." Dean continued forward, still frowning and set off half walking half running, closely followed by Sam and Rick.

"There, right there!" Dean shouted only a hint of fear in his voice. Sam looked to where Dean pointed and swore he saw some kind of movement but it was strange, like whatever it was that moved, blended in almost perfectly with its surroundings. Sam's heart began to race and Rick looked around nervously. Dean edged forward his weapon raised and Sam thought proudly how even hung-over, Dean was still assured, confident and alert when his prey was in his sights. Suddenly Dean took off at a sprint leaving Sam and Rick in his wake, although Sam followed calling back to Rick to stay close.

Dean stopped again still way ahead of the other two men and spun round startled when he heard a yell just in time to see Rick some way back hurled through the air crashing into a tree. Rick was winded but otherwise okay and called to the brothers to carry on. Dean was furiously scouring the area now, as was Sam his weapon raised ready to shoot but the hoarse cry of warning from his brother didn't reach his ears in time as he was lifted by an almost invisible force and hurled through the air landing painfully.

_"Sammy?_!"

Whatever it was that had attacked them seemed to move at near lightning speed heading off into the woods. Dean was about to tear across to his brother's aid when he heard voices and laughter. High pitched. Young. Kids. Dean turned his head towards the sound and for a second he was torn until, he heard the sound of his brother letting him know he was fine.

"Dean go!"

Wasting no more time Dean raced off in the direction of their attacker. The direction of the voices. The direction of the laughter. Kids. _Why was it always kids_? Dean's heart was pounding in his chest and the feeling of terror and urgency seemed to be spurring him on even faster. As he ripped through the forest, branches caught at his face and whipped his legs but he wasn't aware of them. His chest hurt and his head ached and he knew it was because he wasn't on top form. He cursed himself for the abuse he had impacted on his body over the last few days and hoped beyond hope that he would be able to get there in time.

Dean came to an abrupt stop at the edge of a clearing. Two kids, a boy and a girl - Dean guessed they were around fourteen or fifteen - were lying on the grass gazing at each other and giggling. The boy was teasing the girl by tickling her face with a long piece of grass. The girl called him a jerk before knocking his hand away and pulling him close to kiss him on the lips. Relief hit him like a wave but it lasted only seconds when he saw the grass behind them move in an unnatural way and then the boy was hurled across the clearing, landing on his back, instantly knocked out. The girl screamed and what happened next seemed to occur at a sickeningly slow rate.

The girl scrambled to her feet stunned but then appeared to be grabbed by something that Dean could only just make out. Dean took aim preparing to shoot the Wraith as soon as it started to feed but he was alarmed to find that his hands were shaking and he couldn't seem to control his breathing. His head continued to pound, his vision fuzzy and it was near impossible to distinguish the creature from the backdrop of trees and foliage. The girls terrified screams seemed to be begging him to act put he just couldn't focus. And then the screams stopped as he saw the thing move its clawed hand to the girls face, preparing to take what it could from her.

Seconds passed as Dean attempted to blink away the blurriness from his vision and shake off the dizziness that hampered his aim. The young hunter took in a deep breath, attempting to get himself together and quell the shaking in his hands and upon hearing movement behind him and his brother screaming his name, he corrected his aim and squeezed the trigger.


	4. Going Down

_Sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter, thanks for reading and your kind comments. Hope you continue to enjoy._

**Chapter 4 **

**Going Down **

The bullet whipped sure and fast through the air towards its target, piercing effortlessly through crisp, clean air, through pollen gently floating on the breeze, tearing through dust blown up from the dry ground, past humming, blissfully oblivious insects. Time stopped. The air was peaceful and for a split second everything was perfect. Then in a moment it was over. In a moment the world shifted and in that moment the cool, smooth tip of the silver bullet reached its destination and that was the moment that Dean's heart stopped and what was left of his cracked and damaged soul crumbled like soft stone under foot.

**_"No..."_ **

Dean raced forward as his deafening and prolonged scream ripped at Sam's heart as he took Dean's place at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, horrified as he surveyed the hideous scene before him.

Dean was at the girl's side in an instant, the creature having vanished, taking off with a terrifying screech which no animal or human had any business hearing. The bullet had entered her shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle and had come straight out the other side, a fact which Dean determined immediately but that came as no comfort. The girls eyes were wide and petrified, her screams ear splitting, betraying the excruciating pain exploding from her shoulder, looking to Dean begging him to help her. The shell shocked hunter took hold of her hands forgetting who he was and what he was supposed to do in a situation such as this. There was so much blood - it was everywhere, he touched her shoulder then her hair and her face but he couldn't remember what to do, and she was screaming so loudly and there was so much blood. He was falling fast and he felt cold, so cold and it was so quiet but he could hear her screams in his head but it was like he wasn't really there. The world was spinning and he was standing still but at the same time falling so fast. So much blood. On his hands. On her. On his clothes. On him. He was supposed to do something. Something. Where was Sam? Sam would know what to do.

Unable to find any words and his erratic breathing which had increased to a painful level, making it impossible to speak anyway, he simply held on to her trying to convey through his eyes that stung with unshed tears that he was sorry. So sorry.

_I'm so sorry._

Sam ran across to join his brother who appeared to be in shock as Rick tended to the young boy who had started to regain consciousness.

Kneeling next to Dean and shaking him roughly he called his name but received no response. He needed to get Dean out of the way so that he could apply pressure to the wound but Dean wasn't there, he was somewhere else far away and Sam couldn't reach him. In desperation Sam shook his brother again, yelling loudly, wondering if Dean could even hear him above the girls screams, before firmly grabbing his face and turning it towards him to force eye contact.

"Dean! Look at me!" Dean's red rimmed eyes locked with his and in them Sam saw the sorrow, the fear, the horror and the crippling guilt, shame and regret that was threatening to sink him like a stone.

Sam softened his tone, "Dean, we have to stop the bleeding." Sam gently removed his hands from the girl's and Dean sat back allowing Sam some room. Pressing a cloth from the first aid kit into her shoulder and trying his best not to let the agonised cry that escaped the teenager's lips affect him, he turned to ask Rick for a bandage but Rick was already at his side along with the boy.

The teenager was shaken and dizzy but fully conscious as he knelt at his girlfriend's side tears streaming down his face. Taking hold of her hand he switched between attempting to comfort her and screaming hysterically at the three strangers who had just thrown his world into chaos.

"What did you do? What did you do?" his breathing heavy and eyes disturbingly wide, he glared at Dean both terrified and horrified and Dean simply stared at the girl a tear rolling down his cheek answering so matter of fact it sent a shiver like an icy cold, silver bullet, right through Sam.

"I shot her."

"What? What? You- you shot her? You shot her!" he looked down at the terrified girl, who's screaming had shifted to whimpering and hitched breaths muttering words unintelligible to the three men and one boy surrounding her.

The boy looked up again as if startled, scouring the area in which he knelt.

"What was that thing- it -it threw me- where did it go? What the _hell_ was that?" he received no answer

"Why is there so much blood...Casey." he turned back to his girlfriend shaking and crying so uncontrollably the three men were at a loss as to what to do. So, Sam continued wrapping her shoulder, Rick got on his cell phone and Dean simply remained in his kneeling position staring at the girl who's life he had just torn apart, empty, hollow and falling faster and faster into oblivion.

He heard the boy's pleas but they didn't register, it was if he was underwater and he was being protected from the anguish and accusations that continued to spill from the distraught teenager.

"You shot her you- you son of a bitch. Casey. Casey hang on, just hang on. Please." he swiped at the tears on his face smearing blood across his cheek.

"Why did you have to shoot her? No-no-no-no Casey please. Please don't die. Casey." pushing back his girlfriend's dark hair he began to sob brokenly and it was at that moment Sam witnessed the girl's eyes roll back in her head, a visible sheen of sweat on her now deathly pale skin.

"She's going into shock."

Finishing off the bandage that was holding the cloth in place he turned to Rick, already on the phone speaking to the operator who was far too calm as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to take a call for a girl who had just had a bullet put though her shoulder.

"We gotta go. _Now_. There's no way they can get to us in here." Sam started to lift the girl but was stopped by a fierce grip on his arm. Dean glared at his brother in a way that left no room for argument

"_I'll carry her_." his tone was fierce and terrifying but barely above a whisper and Sam conceded without even trying to dissuade his brother. Stepping back he allowed Dean to wrap his jacket around the trembling girl, gently lifting her into his arms and resting her head against his chest.

The boy reluctantly let go of his girlfriend's hand allowing Dean to take her before asking him tearfully:

"She's going to be ok right?" The pleading and what Dean saw as grossly misplaced trust and hope in his voice, ripped at Dean's insides and he was unable to look at him and simply whispered,

"It's nothing; she's going to be fine."

The small, unlikely group set off at an urgent pace back towards the road, Dean tearing through the forest at an alarming rate, apparently unhindered by the weight he was carrying. He didn't feel the heaviness and the burning in his chest. He didn't feel the ache in his back and arms from the load he carried. He was focused only on getting Casey to the road where someone who wasn't a complete screw up, someone who was actually capable of doing their job could take care of her and clear up the mess that he had made.

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Rick took the rear with Sam and the boy in the middle. They had switched between fast walking and running but the young boy was finding it difficult to keep up the pace and they had been forced to temporarily slow down while he got his breath back. Sam struggled to find something to say to him, some way of explaining why the three of them had just gate crashed their peaceful afternoon in the woods turning their lives upside down. He settled for an introduction hoping he could give some reassurance to the obviously traumatised and frightened teenager.

"What's your name kid?"

The boy had stopped crying but his voice was still thick from tears he had forced back, trying to be brave, trying to be strong for his Casey. He answered the man who walked briskly at his side as minimally as possible. He wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"Drew."

"I'm Sam. Drew, listen to me, your girlfriend's going to be alright, you hear."

"You don't know that. That son of a bitch shot her." the response was furious and accusing which caused Sam's anger to rise:

"That _son of a bitch_ just saved her life!"

"Yeah? How do you figure?"

Sam shrugged calming his anger, "Trust me it's better you don't know."

"What's that supposed to mean? Why won't you tell me? What the hell was that thing?"

"Dean tried to kill it. He was trying to save your girlfriend."

"Yeah, bang up job, man."

"Yeah well they're kind of difficult to see." Sam said almost under his breath but the boy hadn't missed a thing.

"Quit screwing with me man, what the hell was that. It wanted to hurt Casey right?"

"It would have killed her."

"Yeah but what the hell was it?"

"Like I said you don't want to know." the boy suddenly stopped in front of Sam blocking his path.

"Don't you want to be with Casey when they take her? We need to keep moving!"

"That thing tried to kill my girl. I want to know what it is."

Sam stooped a little, taking the young boy by the shoulders.

"Listen to me; there are things out there that you can't possibly imagine. Things that you couldn't even dream about. And the things that you do dream about? The monsters in your closet that your mom told you weren't real? Well some of em _are_ real." the boy looked at him in disbelief but warily all the same.

"You're shitting me right?" his eyes conveyed resentment and disgust but also a hint of fear. Fear that this wack job might be telling him the truth.

"I wish." Sam's face was grave, his glare piercing and unwavering.

Drew stared at him long and hard trying to work out if he was being played. Then shaking his head he asked:  
"So you and your piss poor aim of a buddy up there; you really expect me to believe you hunt monsters for a living?"

Sam sighed.

"Actually he's my brother, and yeah - it's not much of a living - but it's a job."

The boy sniggered and pulled away shaking his head incredulously, continuing on through the woods.

"That is seriously messed up man."

Sam grimaced in agreement,

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Some way in front Dean pushed forward, ignoring the pain, ignoring the guilt that would only slow him down, ignoring the branches that scratched his face and the brambles that ripped at his ankles; he kept going because this was the only thing he could do for her now. The only thing he could give her was this. So he carried on, silently promising her he wouldn't stop until they reached the road, eyes forward unblinking, his face a mask betraying only a hint of the darkness that lay heavy in his soul.

TBC


	5. Hospitals Suck

**Chapter 5 **

**Hospitals Suck **

The ambulance was waiting when Dean and the injured girl reached the road side, the three remaining members of the group not far behind. The paramedics strapped the teenager to a gurney, questioning Dean about what had happened who passed on the information calmly and devoid of emotion which came as no surprise to the ambulance crew who were used to seeing people in shock. Drew climbed in next to her, still shaken, his head spinning from the events he had witnessed and from the information he had been given by the mysterious young man who had stayed by his side. Dean looked on, his face still expressionless as Sam approached him slightly out of breath, eyeing him suspiciously, the concern on his face obvious.

"Quit looking at me like that Sam."

"I'm just worried about you man."

Dean turned to him his face hard and cold.

"Yeah, well don't." he paused before nodding to the ambulance which had begun do pull out of the lay by sirens blazing." She's the one you need to worry about. Not me."

But Sam was worried. In fact he was scared shitless. This had gone so far beyond screwed up it wasn't even funny. He had no idea how Dean was going to handle this latest fuck up, which had decided to drop itself unceremoniously into their laps and he was starting to get a little paranoid that the universe really didn't like them all that much. His brother was falling away from him little by little each day and the further away he got the less likely it seemed that he could be pulled back. Frowning he looked on as Rick went to talk to the two police officers who had turned up shortly after the ambulance. It appeared as if he knew them, they were nodding at him and one of them patted him on the shoulder. Sam felt a little nervous. The last thing they needed was a police interrogation and someone recognising them. The Winchesters and the law weren't an ideal combination and Sam wondered how the hell they were going to avoid a cosy little chat with the two officers.

After the in depth exchange Rick approached them, glancing at Sam and then turning to Dean.

"You needn't worry about those two for now. I told them it was me. Hunting accident. Bob's an old friend of mine and I'm pretty sure I convinced him there was no foul play here. You two should get out of town for a few days before they start questioning the kid."

Dean's eyes widened, "No way, Rick. We're not going anywhere; you're not taking the blame for this. This was _my_ fault."

Rick's tone became stern. "Boy, you'll do as you're told. There'll be no charges to face if that's what worrying ya. Those kids were on hunting land. They had no business fooling around there especially after I put out those warnings. The areas been a no go area since last week. Bob told me not worry and that he'd sort it. That's not to say the parents won't try suing of course. But it's doubtful that they'll get very far."

Dean shook his head furiously, "No, I don't like it."

Rick raised his voice slightly, "Son, I don't give a damn if you like it or not. I'm taking you boys back to the Bed and Breakfast and then you're gonna get your sorry asses out of here. Do I make myself clear?"

"What about the Wraith? It's still out there."

It was Sam's turn to speak: "It knows we're on to it. It'll most likely lay low for a week or two. We can come back then and finish the job."

Rick nodded, "Well that's settled then, lets move." The oldest and the youngest of the group made off towards Rick's Jeep which was waiting for them but Dean hesitated, looking back at the road.

"Dean. _Now!" _Rick's sharp order seemed to get through to the young man and he complied reluctantly, climbing in the back and remaining silent for the entire journey.

Rick dropped them off at the B&B and the two brothers said their goodbyes to Rick before hurriedly packing their belongings. Sam was all set to go when he noticed Dean stood by the window staring vacantly out at the street below.

"Dude, come on, we should go."

Dean turned his head slowly to face Sam, "I'm going to the hospital."

"What?" Sam's tone was high pitched and disbelieving, "You're kidding me right?"

"Do I look like I'm laughing here Sam?"

"Dean the parents will be there soon and something tells me they won't be too happy to see us."

"I don't care. I'm going."

"Like hell you are."

"I need to see them. I owe them that much."

"No. No way."

Dean started towards the door, "I'm going Sam, like it or not."

Sam caught him by the arm spinning him around and two pairs of eyes locked with one another, Dean glaring at his brother dangerously.

"Dean please," Sam softened his tone trying to reach his brother but Dean couldn't be reached. He shrugged out of his brother's grasp pushed past him and headed down the stairs calling, without looking back:

"You stay if you want. I'm going."

"Dean... Dammit!" recognising he had no choice Sam followed his brother down the stairs and out to the car, planting himself reluctantly in the passenger's seat. The looked at each other meaningfully, Dean telling his brother silently that he had to do this and Sam's eyes conveying the fact that he didn't like it but he wasn't leaving him. Dean nodded gratefully, turned the key and pulled away.

Sam wasn't happy with this at all. He knew no good could come of this and it would likely send Dean spiralling even faster but his brother had made it quite clear, in no uncertain terms that this was what they were doing and he certainly wasn't going to let Dean go in there alone. If Dean seemed intent on punishing himself by facing the two people who had more reason to hate him than anyone then he was going to be stood right by his side and stay there while Dean took whatever they thought he deserved.

The journey seemed to last an age. The hospital was about twenty minutes down the road from where the ambulance had met them at the woods. Traffic through the town had just reached maximum capacity and it took them a good hour just to reach the spot where their lives had so dramatically changed. The drive was trying Dean's already shredded patience and Sam thought his head just might explode. The tension in the car was unbearable and when they finally arrived Sam tried his best to disguise his relief. After finding a space to park, Sam waited for his brother to make the first move but it seemed he was reluctant to get out of the car. Sam made no attempt to push him and they stayed there for a while, in silence just waiting. Sam wasn't sure what for but he stayed patiently in his seat until his brother was ready. And then without warning Dean took a breath and opened the door getting out. Sam followed.

After making a few enquiries they managed to find their way to the ward where the young girl was situated. They had heard that her condition had been stabilised and that the bullet had caused minimal damage but that wasn't the half of it. For some reason unknown to the various doctors that had examined her she had failed to regain consciousness, slipping into a coma and remaining completely unresponsive. There was very little brain activity and the parents had been told that it was unlikely she would make a full recovery if at all. And no one knew why. Except of course for two brothers who knew they could never explain the reason to a single human being without being locked away in a padded cell for the rest of their miserable lives.

Turning a corridor Sam glanced at his brother to try and gauge his mental state hoping that this wouldn't damage him any more than he was already and send him hurtling downwards to a place from which he couldn't be retrieved. Bringing his eyes front once more his stomach turned when he recognised the teenager who he now knew as Drew. He was stood leaning against a wall opposite a couple, possibly in their mid forties who were deep in conversation with a doctor. Sam noticed his brother's stride slow down almost immediately and felt his own muscles tense. This wasn't going to be good which ever way you looked at it.

Still approaching but much more slowly, the brothers finally came to a stop about fifteen feet away from the small gathering of concerned loved ones who had apparently just finished their conversation with the doctor that had now left them alone. Sam watched holding his breath hoping that they wouldn't be noticed and that Dean would change his mind so that they could both get the hell out of there.

Wiping her eyes with a shaky hand the woman leaned her head against her husband's chest briefly before turning her head towards the two young men who she had just noticed at the corner of her vision. She didn't recognize either of them and wondered puzzled why they were both staring at her eyes wide and why one of them looked like he was close to tears. Her questions were answered quickly when she heard the boy who her daughter had fallen in love with at such a ridiculously young age speak tearfully telling her that they were the ones and she understood instantly. She didn't have to ask which of the two men had put a bullet in her daughter- it was obvious, but the tortured expression of guilt and anguish on the shorter, lighter haired man's face invoked no sympathy and she simply wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her and her family.

And then time seemed to stand still.

Dean watched the woman's face as it changed from questioning to horror stricken to looking like she could kill with her bare hands. Frozen to the spot his eyes locked with the woman who as if in slow motion had begun to walk purposefully towards him and he braced himself swallowing hard as he thought humourlessly that it was unlikely she was coming to give him a hug.

All of a sudden they were face to face and a second passed as Dean fought to find words that he could say to this woman - this woman whose daughter he had pointlessly ripped away from a life she had barely begun. He was spared the effort however, unsurprisingly, when the woman lashed out, slapping him hard across the face. The pain of the blow striking already abused and still tender flesh caused by the bar brawl with a man he couldn't remember, made him gasp in shock screwing his eyes shut instinctively. He was aware of her screaming at him to leave and never come back; pounding him with her fists and shoving at him but the words weren't registering as his mind tried to escape itself shutting off from the reality he found too agonising to face. Speechless and shaken he felt a single tear escape and trickle down his cheek as two strong, familiar hands took hold of him firmly, pulling him, guiding him away from the horror, the grief and the death that _his_ actions had caused.

---------------------------------------

After escaping the hospital the brothers took sanctuary in the Impala and took off without looking back. Sam took the wheel without question. His brother's hands were still shaking and he was in no state to drive but what worried Sam more than anything was that Dean had handed him the keys without hesitation or argument. The silence was deafening and Sam's head was pounding from the tension, from the fear and from the guilt that he had insisted they take this job when he should have known better. Dean had been in no fit state to handle a hunt- even a straight forward one and now a young girl's life hung in the balance and Sam felt sick to his stomach with fear that the teenager wasn't alone.

Dean didn't speak. He simply stared straight ahead, motionless, his expression unreadable, his brow furrowed slightly yet always with that empty hollow gaze which left Sam feeling there was no hope for him, for either of them. He found himself subconsciously heading west and then down the country although he was oblivious to why.

After driving for as long as he could before fatigue defeated him he decided it was time to stop and find a place to stay. It would be getting dark in a few hours and he was sick of driving anyway. He vaguely remembered seeing a sign for South Dakota some time ago but wasn't sure where exactly they were other than the middle of nowhere.

Fortunately for them both this particular part of Nowhere had just thrown up a sign saying: 'Motel 1 mile on left' which was a source of relief for Sam and apparently a cause for indifference for Dean.

Still caught in the crippling silence Sam watched Dean for any reaction as he pulled into the dusty area of wasteland to the right of the motel which he assumed was where residents were supposed to put their vehicles. Switching off the engine Sam was again disturbed and concerned by the complete lack of reaction from his brother and had to go round to his side, open the door calling his brother's name several times before he got a response. Dean turned his head towards Sam staring vacantly at him as if awaiting instruction. Sam put a hand gently on his shoulder and locked eyes with him.

"Dean, we're gonna stay here for a few days, ok buddy?"

Dean didn't speak but simply got out of the car staring blankly ahead until Sam handed him his bag and gently pushed him forward in the direction of the motel reception. After collecting their keys the brothers made their way silently to their room, Sam dumping his bag on the far bed while Dean sat down on the one nearest the door.

Sam looked across at his brother frowning trying to think of something to say. But what could you say when you knew your brother had just shot an innocent girl and there was no fixing it. What could you say when things were so far gone you couldn't even remember how you got here. But of course he remembered. They had got here because Sam had insisted on it. Sam had pushed his brother into a hunt he wasn't ready for. Sam had failed to help his brother when he had really needed it. And now Sam was left to wonder if he the two of them would ever find their way back.

TBC

_sorry if I'm boring you with this I know it's draggin on a bit... but thanks for being patient - hopefully it'll be worth it._


	6. Losing

**Chapter 6 **

**Losing **

The two brothers sat in silence on their respective beds one of them lost in his thoughts the other trying to escape his. Sam knew he had to do something he just didn't know what and the longer he left it the harder it became. Sitting up on his bed he turned to his brother who was absently flicking through channels on the TV paying little attention to their content before switching to the next.

"Dean?" he received no response. Sam got up and turned off the TV sitting on his brother's bed and facing the now irritated older man.

"We need to talk about this."

"No, Sam. We don't." Dean got up to switch the TV back on but was pushed back by Sam who then dropped his gaze nervously. He knew better than to push his brother when he was like this but he was getting desperate and he thought to hell with the risk of getting a smack in the mouth, because things really couldn't get any worse.

"Dean, I'm worried about you." Dean looked away feigning indifference.

"Dean please. Talk to me man."

"Talk to you? What would you like to talk about? You wanna talk about the fact that I killed someone? You wanna talk about that?"

"You didn't kill anyone Dean."

"Hm funny, I heard that the kid was in a coma and not expected to wake up. Sounds a lot like being dead to me."

"Come on, Dean, you shot her in the shoulder. Since when does that put someone into a coma?"

"Well I guess since about six hours ago."

"Dean, it was the Wraith. You know it and I know it."

"Yeah Sam, I got that. And why was it the Wraith, Sam? Why did the Wraith get to feed on her? Oh um let me think now. Oh yeah I remember, because _I screwed up!"_

_"_It wasn't your fault." Sam was struggling to keep his voice calm.

"I hesitated, Sam. Just like - just I did when - when we were kids. Except Dad wasn't there to bail me out this time."

Sam shook his head infuriated that that memory still haunted his brother.

"Dean..."

"My aim was all over the place. But I guess that's what happens when you spend three, four nights straight knocking back tequila and whisky huh?" Dean's eyes were glistening and Sam knew he wasn't helping. Shaking his head tearfully he looked his brother straight in the eye.

"Please, Dean. Don't do this ok. We can work this out. I know you feel bad and yeah you made a mistake but you gotta ease up on yourself man."

"A mistake? Sam a mistake is when you forget your keys or accidentally reverse your brother's car into a tree."

Sam shook his head again, ignoring his brother's attempt to distract him with the memory of the unfortunate prang he'd had when he was in his late teens.

"Dean you cannot keep torturing yourself for every single thing that goes to shit."

"You can't possibly deny that I screwed up here Sam. I mean come on. I was hung over."

"Hey I'd still trust your aim over most, hung over or not."

"You think that kid's parents would agree with you there Sammy?"

Sam looked away blinking back tears, and then turning back to his brother he spoke his voice almost breaking:

"Dean please. I don't know what to do anymore man. I'm trying my best here but I guess it's not good enough. I try to help but I end up making things worse and now it's like I'm losing you and I have no idea how to stop it!"

Dean winced, hating seeing his baby brother so distressed. Looking away he took a breath.

"Look Sam, I'll be alright. Just - don't go worrying bout me ok?"

Sam sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

"Really, Sam. I guess I just need some time to get my head straight ok?"

Sam nodded but all the while knowing his brother was lying to him. Lying to protect him. Always to protect him. But who was going to protect Dean? He cursed himself for being so useless. Why couldn't he help his brother this time? Was he that messed up himself now that he couldn't even be there for his brother? Was his head so screwed and riddled with his own guilt that he couldn't even find a way to reach Dean and haul him to his feet. Was he that weak now? If so then what hope did either of them have?

Dean pushed himself up announcing he was going for a drive.

"Why don't I come with you?" Sam asked tears still present in his eyes.

"No, I'm good. Look I just need a little time on my own ok?"

Dean considered himself to be a good liar. Although technically he wasn't lying. He _was_ going for a drive he just didn't tell Sam he was going to drive to a liquor store and buy the largest bottle of whisky he could find and spend the rest of the evening pouring it down his neck. And when he'd done that, then he really _would_ be ok.

It took Dean just over an hour to find a store, buy the alcohol and drive back to the motel. He didn't go in though - he couldn't do that to Sam. He would take a short walk and let Sam believe he was still out driving around and hopefully by the time he got back Sam would be fast asleep and unaware that his big brother was steaming drunk. Again. Well he was drinking for two now after all. Two deaths on his hands. Or was that three. It was probably a lot more than that if he was honest. Leaning against a tree he gazed up at the stars allowing the smooth liquid to burn his throat and slide into his stomach soothing away the pain and the guilt and numbing himself into a blissfully dull haze.

He didn't realise Sam was awake when he stumbled back into the motel room and he didn't hear his brother's tears of despair as he wrapped his arms around himself trying to hold in the sobs and he didn't hear the silent prayer that Sam made on his behalf, begging for help, for forgiveness and for a way out of this unending darkness. Dean was oblivious to it all and heard nothing and felt nothing. Collapsing on his bed fully clothed he allowed himself to drift into deep sleep where he hoped the demons wouldn't find him.

------------------------------------------

Waking in a cold sweat his t-shirt clinging to him and the girl's desperate screams still ringing in his ears; he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom emptying the contents of his alcohol abused stomach into the toilet. Sam was fast on now thankfully and was oblivious to the sounds of his brother's retching behind the bathroom door. After washing his face and rinsing out his mouth he pushed his feet into his boots, grabbed the car keys and his gun and headed out into the cool night air.

The eerie silence of the night was almost comforting as if reassuring him that he knew what he had to do and that it was right and good. Smiling to himself he strolled over to the Impala unlocked the door and sank into the drivers seat sighing heavily. He'd intended to drive somewhere but his vision wasn't quite right making him think that he was still drunk and he really didn't want another person's blood on his hands. Turning his gun over in his hands he thought angrily about the people who had died because of him.

He thought about Layla and how she should be looking forward to a long and healthy future but because of him was facing a lingering death before she'd had the chance to achieve her dreams. That's if she wasn't dead already. He still prayed for her but it was mainly because he was reluctant to break a promise rather than pure faith or any belief in a higher power. He had long since given up on the idea that anyone was watching over him, and recent events had merely served to enforce those beliefs.

He thought about the lives of innocents he'd been forced to take over the years, innocents possessed who he had been unable to save, innocents taken over by an evil that they hadn't asked for or invited. And those who he had simply failed because he hadn't been quick enough or because the evil was too dark or simply because fate had not been on his side that day.

And he thought about his father. A flawed man who he adored and hero worshipped all the same but who had seen fit to make the ultimate sacrifice. A sacrifice he hadn't wanted or asked for, a sacrifice that had been made in order to save him but in fact was now destroying him. His father hadn't just given up his life he had sold his soul, his spirit the thing that made him who he was and that was so much worse than death wasn't it? Infinitely worse.

And now that kid. Casey. Fourteen years old and her life destroyed because he couldn't get through one night without a drink.

Looking out into the darkness, he thought it strange how indifferent he felt. He didn't desperately want to die but he didn't particularly want to live either. His time had come at least twice now and he thought maybe he should take the hint. His life was now invalid and he couldn't even do the job anymore. What was he if he couldn't hunt? But it was more than that. It wasn't just that he wasn't meant to be breathing it was that he really shouldn't be breathing and he had a feeling that if he didn't rectify the situation then more and more people would die at his hands. This was the universes way of correcting itself right? He wasn't supposed to be and so bad things would keep happening until he did something about it. Normally the idea of leaving his little brother alone would be enough to stop him from this line of thought but Dean knew that Sam could carry on without him and that in truth it was him that relied on Sam not the reverse. Besides what if Sam became one of those destined to die at his hands. For all he knew this was what his dad had meant by saving him. Maybe the only way to save Sam was to remove himself from the picture and then allow Sam to become the man he was meant to be; finally out of his brother's shadow.

Feeling the tears stinging in his eyes at the realisation he was leaving his baby brother behind he swallowed hard and steeled himself for what he knew he must do. Lifting the gun off his lap he turned it placing it under his chin and pressing it into his neck. Closing his eyes and allowing the tears to fall he sent out a silent apology to his little brother praying to whoever was listening that he would one day forgive him.

Then after deciding that it was over, he squeezed the trigger.

TBC

_I know another cliff hanger - I'm so sorry_


	7. Lost

**A/N Big thanks to everyone who's still reading this here ramble and especially thanks to those who left comments. Really sorry about that evil cliff-hanger - and the longer than usual wait - it wasn't deliberate honest - been away over the weekend and no time last week but I hope this makes up for it ;) **

**Chapter 7 **

**Lost **

Sam awoke gasping for air as the images replayed in his head like a horror movie.

_Dean._

It wasn't that long ago when he'd been tortured by a similar vision which had hit him so hard he'd displayed telekinetic abilities. This however was different. His brother with a gun pressed to his neck about to blow his own brains out. This just didn't fit. This wasn't his brother - he knew that Dean in his right mind would never do such a thing but the vision was saying otherwise. Without wasting any more time he pulled on his jeans and shoes and looked for the car keys, his stomach falling when he realised they were gone. Staggering outside he almost sobbed with relief when he saw the Impala still outside and raced over to where he hoped Dean was still breathing and he was just in time to see his big brother, his protector, his hero, his best friend pull the trigger on the gun that he had pressed under his chin.

"_**DEAN**_!" it was a scream no doubt about it. Hoarse and desperate and full of terror and anguish and a plea that this just wasn't happening.

And then.

Nothing happened.

Dean opened his eyes blinking and visibly shaking, not sure if he was alive or dead as his little brother opened the car door and dragged him furiously out into the cool night air slamming him up against the door. Their eyes locked as Sam grasped the front of his coat his face a picture of fury.

"You stupid, stupid bastard! What the hell were you thinking?!" shaking and then again shoving Dean hard into the car, he felt tears of anger spring into his eyes as he glared at his brother.

Dean dropped his gun and stared at Sam his eyes empty, saying nothing which seemed to further increase Sam's rage.

"You want to die, Dean? You want to die you fuckin' prick?! Are things really that bad that you want to blow your stupid, fuckin' brains all over the inside of your car?"

Dean blinked and looked downwards causing Sam to shake him again.

"What, you were just gonna let me find you like that huh, Dean? Do you care that little about anything or anyone that you were just gonna let me find you - _like that_?"

Sam's voice broke half way through his tirade but he didn't care. He didn't care if Dean saw him cry in fact he didn't care if Dean saw him crumble to pieces right there because maybe than he would realise just how important he was to his little brother and how much this was tearing him part.

Sam sniffed shaking his head and let go of his brother's jacket allowing him to sag heavily on to the hard gravel floor, still shaking, tears now streaming from his red rimmed eyes. Panting and exhausted Sam sat on the floor opposite his brother and picked up the gun examining it furious, astounded, shocked and more than a little freaked out but thanking what he could only imagine was someone or something watching over Dean Winchester that night.

Dean wiped his eyes and took in a shaky breath.

"What happened?" it was barely a whisper.

"Well it looks like your gun jammed you asshole! Your fucking gun jammed!" Sam threw the gun across the floor away from them still furious and close to tears and was having trouble fighting the urge to smack the shit out of his older brother.

"Jammed huh?" Dean leaned against the car, his head back and closed his eyes, "Well I guess that's that."

Sam looked on astonished and horrified as his brother pushed himself to his feet and headed off towards the road. Sam followed him incensed and infuriated, yelling so loud it hurt his throat.

"_**Dean**_! Dean, what the hell..." Sam caught up with the older Winchester spinning him round and giving him another rough shake.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man? You were just gonna leave me? Bail on me? Blow your brains out, you stupid, selfish son of a..."

"What's your problem Sam? I didn't do it did I? Seems I screwed up yet again."

"You're a stupid, fuckin' asshole Dean," another shake. "How could you do that? How could you do that to me..." he pushed Dean away stopping to swipe at his eyes.

Dean ran a hand across his face, composed himself and then glared at his brother, who was now in tears.

"Why Dean? I mean why would you do that..?"

"Why? You wanna know why? Well how about why not?"

Sam shook his head not understanding.

"All I do is screw things up, Sam. People are dead because of me. People who deserved to live. Tell me, Sam, how come I get to live instead of them?"

Sam took a step towards him, stabbing a finger into his chest, his voice gradually increasing in volume, "You are so way of base here Dean it's not **even funny!**"

"No, Sam, I'm not. In fact I'm finally starting to get it. I'm a screw up and I'm gonna keep on being a screw up until someone or some_thing_ puts me out of my misery."

Sam took a breath wiping his eyes again trying to calm himself.

"Ok Dean just stop ok, please just stop and listen to me."

"I'm done listening to you, Sam; and what I can't figure out is why you're still here. I mean I treat you like crap, I mess up your life; drag you all over the country and for what? So I can clock you in the face whenever you say something I don't like?"

Sam shook his head almost laughing. He always knew Dean still beat himself up over that. It wasn't like he'd even hit him that hard, but Dean had felt like shit all the same.

"Dean, you're my brother man..."

"That's my point!" Dean was shouting now.

"What kind of scum bag beats up on his own brother, huh?"

There was a pause as Sam tried for the hundredth time that week to find something to say. But there was nothing. There was so much grief and guilt and pain and nothing could break through it and he was about a second away from falling to his knees and giving up completely.

So it was Dean who was the next to speak.

"Look, Sam - if you know what's good for you you'll do yourself a favour and stay the hell away from me. Your life will be a whole lot better without me around to mess it up."

Dean tuned to walk away and Sam was about to let him when he was filled with one last surge of energy. Catching up with his brother he grabbed his arm and yet again spun him round to face him, yelling with all his strength:

"Yeah well maybe I like having you mess up my life. Maybe I need you around messing up my life. _Maybe_ I like the way you mess up my life- d'you ever think of that, huh?"

Dean shook is head disbelievingly, "You're nuts you know that Sam? And I thought I was bad."

Turning away again he sighed in frustration as his brother came after him again, like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go.

"Dean wait, just wait," Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stop him, to slow him down, to buy some time.

"Listen; think about it - your gun, yeah? Your gun jammed - I mean that's a sign right? When was the last time your gun jammed, huh, Dean?" he was breathing heavily and he knew he sounded desperate and he was clutching at straws but he _was_ desperate and he was running out of time fast.

Dean shook his head smirking condescendingly. "That crap again. When are you gonna get it that there's no such thing as signs or destiny or any of that bull shit that you believe in that just stops you from seeing the truth."

"How can you say that Dean, after what happened - it can't have been a coincidence- it just can't have."

"Ok you wanna know what I think? Maybe it did happen for a reason. But in the end what it all boils down to is that I don't deserve to die because that would be too easy right? I mean death would be a blessing compared to this but I guess I don't deserve that - I guess I'm just gonna have to live every day knowing what I've done - who knows maybe that's what hell _really_ is."

With his last words Dean's voice broke, nearly breaking Sam's heart with it as he witnessed a tear slide down his big brother's cheek not making it to the floor as he swiped it away angrily.

"It seems someone out there thinks death's too good for me, Sammy; I know you wanna believe that someone's looking out for us but if there is - if there is someone out there - then all they want is to watch me suffer - but I guess that's no more than I deserve right."

He began to walk away again only to be stopped yet again by his relentless little brother who just wouldn't, couldn't give up on him.

"Dean please," grabbing at his brother's jacket he was aware he sounded weak and pathetic and that he was begging pitifully but at this point he really didn't give a damn.

"Don't - don't do this please- don't..." his pleas were rewarded by a hard shove.

"For the last time, Sam, stay away from me!"

The jostle resulted in Sam losing his balance, falling painfully onto the ground, knocking his injured arm causing him to cry out. The sound from his little brother made Dean flinch with guilt and he was about to stop and help him up but his soul felt heavy and was weighing him down and even though he had been spared for a third time he felt no pleasure, no sense of peace and certainly no feeling of angels watching over him. Sam pushed himself into a sitting position getting back his breath before even attempting to get up.

Sam shook his head refusing to believe it was over tears streaming down his face, as he realised that the recent events - rather than coming as a moment of truth to Dean, a moment of clarity, a life changing point in time which would give him the hope and strength to continue - had actually sucked out what was left of his resolve and his spirit.

Dean looked down at him trying to hide how lost he felt, trying to hide his desperation, trying to hide the fact that he wished more than anything that Sam could save him but knowing that he couldn't and for the last time turned away from his little brother and walked away leaving him screaming brokenly after him.

"Dean please, don't do this. Don't do this to me. _**Please**_. Don't you leave me._ **Dean!**"_

His voice cracked painfully as the tears increased and Sam's heart plummeted as he realised how far his brother had fallen. Rather than see this as a second chance he had only been able to see it as a punishment. A sentence dished out by some higher power in order to make him suffer his guilt, his demons and his mistakes every single day until they destroyed him. Defeated and emotionally demolished Sam watched his brother walk down the road further and further away from him and finally conceded that he couldn't help him, that maybe this time he was beyond help and that it was finally over for them.

They hadn't made it.

The devastated young man got up and staggered over to the Impala leaning heavily against the trunk. The agony he was feeling pressed on him mercilessly and he was unable to hold his own weight and so slowly sank to the floor, heartbroken, decimated and alone, sobbing out his grief for the brother he now believed he had finally lost for good.

TBC

_Sorry bit of a depressing one_


	8. Wise Up

**Chapter 8 **

**A/N Thanks for the comments again peoples - you're all fab. This was originally quite a short chapter but it kind of got bigger and now it's not that short... **

**Wise Up **

_'You think, one drink, will shrink you 'til you're underground, and living down, but it's not going to stop... 'til you wise up.'_

_Lyrics taken from Wise Up by Aimee Mann_

_I own nothing yada yada yada_

When Sam woke the next morning for a split second everything was fine. There was no pain, no despair, no fear, no crippling sense of loss, no sensation of falling quickly and slowly and terrifyingly into an abyss where only nightmares and demons existed, where there was no hope or light or love or peace.

Everything was fine.

And then it wasn't.

Then his stomach was sinking and his body shaking from the onslaught of memories which pounded him relentlessly. Anger and bitterness and loss and guilt and a devastating sense of hopelessness rushed him like a shock wave, leaving him gasping and his brain screaming, the darkness threatening to swallow him whole and suck out every part of him that made him who he was. That made him Sam.

He was alone. There was no one there to tell him what to do, no one to tell him that he would be ok, no one to save him and to keep on saving him and no one to promise him that nothing bad would happen while they were around. The one person who could tell him those things was gone. The one person who could save him, tell him what to do was the person that needed saving themselves and now it was left to him to do it.

He sat up rubbing his eyes which were still sore from the previous night. He didn't remember the tears stopping, they just kept coming and coming and he couldn't control the sobs which wracked his body painfully, refusing to allow him peace. He ached all over on the inside and out and it took every ounce of strength and energy to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He didn't really care about making himself clean- he didn't really care about anything, but he knew if he didn't force himself then he too would sink to the depths below, following his brother and if that happened he may as well kiss goodbye to any hope of saving Dean.

Hope.

He wasn't even certain that he still had any. Last night he had given up. Lost the will to fight and given up on his brother. How could he do that? How could he even consider giving up while Dean still had breath in his lungs? It occurred to him how much Dean must hate him now, having allowed him to walk away from him and out of his life without even trying. But he had tried. He had tried yelling at his brother, tried being hard on him, tried being sympathetic and tried with everything within him to convince Dean of his own worth but somehow it wasn't enough. The right choice of words, the words that would have reached Dean simply hadn't come to him and now he was left with nothing.

If only he'd said something when it really mattered. When Dean had needed to hear the words - any words would've done. He had clammed up and failed to rise to his brother's hypothetical question. His question that had begged Sam to tell him what he could say to make it alright. Maybe it hadn't been hypothetical. Maybe Dean had really needed an answer. Something to cling to, just an inch of hope which would've saved him from this.

But now it was all too late. Nothing Sam had said had been able to make it alright and he was losing his brother fast and he just didn't know what to do. There was a time once when he had been able to reach Dean, but it had come at a price. Physically hurting Dean had cost Sam a great deal, but it had worked. He had literally been driven to knocking some sense into Dean and he had let his guard down, trusted him enough to allow himself to be comforted for once. But this was different. Their father - Dean's hero - was dead and it had left a huge gaping hole like an open wound in his older brother's soul and it was getting bigger and bigger. And then of course Dean's ever reliable guilt complex had jumped in with both feet, cruelly reminding him of all the mistakes he believed he had made, all the people he believed he had failed and the times when his best simply wasn't good enough.

Sam was dressed and planning his next move before mid morning. Checking the net on his lap top for the nearest bars and diners he was oddly relieved to find the nearest one was only a few miles away, which meant that hopefully Dean was also. Of course he had no idea how his brother had spent the night. It was possible Dean had kept walking or hitched a ride to who knew where or even slept by the road side. Sam felt sickened as he started to think up all the possible scenarios - all the things which could have happened to his brother while he slept in his bed.

He was such an idiot. Why hadn't he gone after him? He should've just followed and refused to leave him but then Dean probably would have punched him out. He thought to himself that he would have happily taken a hundred punches off him if it meant that he would let Sam help him. He would have allowed Dean to kick the living shit out of him if he thought that there was even the slimmest chance that Dean would come out the other side and give Sam his big brother back.

Deciding that worrying and fretting were getting him no where fast he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed off to find his brother.

His well planned and much thought out search and rescue mission lasted all of five minutes and came to an end shortly after he pulled into the parking lot of Joe's Diner. Sam spotted his brother immediately slouched at a table nursing a large mug of coffee. A waitress came over to him smiling sweetly and offered him a re fill which he accepted without comment and continued to stare downwards into the dark, brown, comforting liquid. Sam wasn't sure if he heard him approach as there was no response or reaction when he joined him at the table.

Sam stared at his brother, almost overcome with relief that nothing bad had happened to him and thanked the heavens that he hadn't gone far.

Sam kept his tone casual, acting as if the previous night hadn't happened; pretending that his brother hadn't tried to kill himself with his own gun, in his own car, with his own baby brother sleeping only a few feet away in his bed.

Taking a seat he casually picked up a newspaper which had been discarded on the adjacent seat, flicking through it absently not really seeing the articles or the photographs, just trying his hardest to hold on to some semblance of normality, some small sense of control and order, so that maybe, he could get through this conversation without breaking down.

"You been here all night dude?"

Dean just looked up at him his eyes numb.

"I thought I told you to stay away from me."

Sam shrugged cheerfully.

"Yeah you did, but I kind of decided to ignore you." Sam beckoned the waitress over and smiling charmingly at her, he ordered himself a coffee along with two large cooked breakfasts with extra bacon and sausage. Dean looked up in disgust.

"I'm not hungry."

Sam was undeterred.

"Whatever - listen dude, I was thinking that maybe we could take a drive somewhere, maybe see some sights or something."

Dean looked at him as if he had grown an extra head.

"That's funny, you know 'cos _I_ was thinking that maybe you could stay out of my face."

Sam once again ignored his brother's comment and pressed on pleasantly, trying his best to hide the fear and the anguish and the pain from his brother.

"I thought a break would do us good. Just a quick vacation before we head back to Minnesota and finish off that job."

Dean glared ferociously at his younger brother trying his hardest to sound cold, dispassionate and as if the brother that Sam knew, was now dead and gone.

"I thought I'd made myself clear Sam but obviously I was wrong. I'm done with hunting; I'm done with _the job_ and most of all I'm done with _you!_"

Sam maintained eye contact for a second trying to pretend the harshness of Dean's words hadn't hurt him but it was futile. Looking away he was unable to stop the tears which sprung into his eyes and he was furious with himself for not being able to keep up the act and remain stoic. How did Dean do that? How did Dean always manage to act like nothing fazed him, like nothing was hurting him even when he was going through hell he still managed to keep up a front? Why couldn't _he_ be like that? More like his big brother. When had he become so pathetic and so vulnerable? He felt so raw these days - everything seem to cut so deep and even his brother who he knew made a habit of saying things he didn't mean had managed to further damage his now weary and frail psyche.

Blinking away his tears he took in a shuddering breath and once more faced his brother, his voice low and thick.

"You know Dean, I wish you would just tell me what to do man. Tell me how I can help you."

Dean ignored the obvious pain in his little brother's voice and continued his attempt to get rid of him, to make him leave and never come back.

"You wanna know how you can help?" he looked at Sam his voice light and eyebrows raised but Sam knew he was about to receive yet more abuse so he just stared back and waited the response without comment as Dean leaned forward and raised his voice to an uncomfortable level growling viciously at his baby brother.

"Stay... the hell... _**away from me!**_"

There was a long, agonising pause before Sam finally nodded giving in and wiping at his eyes.

"Fine, if that's what you want I'll leave you. You hate me that much I'll go."

He searched his brother's eyes hoping to find something, some regret some sign that he wanted Sam to stay, some silent plea from Dean that Sam couldn't hear but that was screaming at him to help him, to stay and to please not give up on him, but if there was, Sam didn't see it. All he saw was emptiness. A void, a black despair which had poisoned his brother's soul and left behind nothing but hate, and self loathing and destruction.

Sam looked away refusing to let the darkness in his brother's eyes consume him and whispered brokenheartedly:

"I guess I'm just gonna have to live with the fact that I let you down."

Dean looked away but his face betrayed no emotion. Sam brought out the car keys and held them out to his brother.

"You may as well take these. It's your car after all."

"Keep it. I don't need it where I'm going."

Sam breathed heavily. "And where would that be Dean?" he already knew the answer.

Dean took a gulp of his coffee.

"Bar; nice ten minute stroll that way." Dean gestured with his head.

Sam eyed him harshly, "You're gonna drink yourself to death, you know that?"

Dean shrugged and grinned humourlessly.

"It's a plan."

Sam snorted shaking his head in disgust and anger before throwing enough money on the table to cover the bill.

"Make sure you eat something."

Then he stood taking one last look before walking away, leaving his brother alone to drown in his own sea of nothingness.

------------

Watching Sam walk away was so much harder than he'd ever imagined. He hated what he was doing to Sam but firmly believed it was in the entire universe's best interest. Especially Sam's. It hurt more than he could articulate, and he knew the pain he was inflicting on his baby brother was indescribable. This only fuelled the hatred he felt for himself and his sorry excuse for an existence, making him all the more determined to bring it to a swift end. Maybe not as swift as a bullet but this way was certainly more fun. This way was less painful and not as final and it gave him time to prepare. Although what he was preparing for he wasn't sure.

He had sworn to himself that he would never again put a gun to his head but that didn't mean that there weren't other ways to achieve his goals. Besides if the cosmos had decided that Dean Winchester wasn't going to escape his torturous, miserable life then there was very little he could do about it. This however he could control. He could control exactly how much alcohol he consumed, control the level of intoxication and control whether he passed out, vomited or simply drifted into a blissfully dull sleep where no demons could find him and no evil could reach him until the morning when he could simply start over.

He didn't care whether he lived or died just so long as he stayed out of humanity's way and didn't cause any more needless, innocent deaths. Sam was his main concern. Sam was the one he needed to avoid the most because he knew that whatever he did or however hard he tried he would eventually end up destroying him and that would mean the end of anything meaningful in his life. It had always been about Sam ever since he was a kid. Sam had always come first and he wouldn't have it any differently. If Sam was able to get away from him and live out his life the way he should have then all this might just be worth it. Dean's resolve was sure. He had no doubts in his mind that this was the course he should be taking. If he had any doubts then he might have returned with his brother to the motel and made some pointless, pitiful attempt to get his life back but he wouldn't because there _was_ no doubt. There could _never_ be any doubt.

Unfortunately for Dean, what he didn't realise was that there _was_ doubt. Doubt in bucket loads in fact, but Dean's mind was so shut off from reality, clouded by the constant drinking and abuse of his body, smothered and suffocated by the cloud that hung over him that he was unable to see any good or truth or peace in anything. The depression had grown like a cancer, gradually transforming him hideously into something unrecognisable to the one person who loved and trusted and needed him more than anyone.

And Sam knew.

Sam knew that what he had witnessed wasn't his brother. That this person who refused to see who he really was, refused to accept his worth, his place in an ungrateful world wasn't the true, pure form of his big brother Dean Winchester, but some twisted, unnaturally altered version, corrupted by alcohol and despair and if he could just get him to sober up for one day, then maybe, just maybe, he could see that.

Dean truly believed that the darkness within him and the hate that consumed him, the feelings of worthlessness were based on truth and fact, when in fact they were simply all that he could see from the position that he had fallen to. From where he had fallen he couldn't see light, he couldn't see hope and from down here there was no love, or peace, or safety.

Sam was reminded of a time when they were kids and they were playing hide and seek. Dean had counted to one hundred and Sam had found a corner of the garden in which to hide and had covered his eyes truly believing that if he couldn't see Dean then Dean wouldn't be able to see him. Dean had laughed so hard at his little brother's endearing attempt at stealth and had teased him mercilessly for days.

Just because you can't see the light doesn't mean it can't see you.

Sam could see him. Sam would always be able to see him and Sam had decided that if Dean was lost then he would find him and pull him out of the hole that he had dug for himself.

Sam wasn't giving up this time. Sam was pissed and had had enough. He had walked away from his brother and allowed him to believe he was finally leaving him alone but the truth was far different. Sam was not leaving his brother, not ever, and he wasn't giving in or giving up. Now was the time to open his eyes and accept that he had failed. He couldn't reach Dean but that didn't mean that Dean couldn't be reached. It was time to wise up and face facts. Sometimes you couldn't win the war without help with the battle and sometimes your own defences and armour weren't enough. Sometimes people were just too close to help and sometimes you needed to take a step back, take a breath and accept that you are but a human and can't fix the world.

He couldn't fix Dean, he was just a boy and he was scared and lonely and in pain just like Dean and he missed his dad so much and sometimes he thought the grief would overwhelm him. But that was ok because the answer had finally come to him, as if it had always been there but had finally stepped boldy out of the shadows, slapping him in the face and yelling at him to wake up. It wasn't just about him and his brother. It didn't have to always come down to that and sometimes you just had to humbly accept the fact that you needed a little help.

Sam was lost but not broken and while believing that his last chance was about to be used he drew on his last reserves of hope and strength to prepare himself for the only thing he had left to try. The only thing he could think of to do.

And then he picked up the phone.

------------------------------------

"What are you two doing out there?"

"Not much. There aren't any hunts. He doesn't wasn't to hunt. He just wants to drink."

"I can understand that,"

"He's out of control. I don't know what to do. He's just so pissed at me."

"Have you tried smacking him upside the head?"

"No; the way he is I think he would probably punch me out. Besides I tried that once and I only just got away with it."

The voice on the other line chuckled:

"Yeah I can imagine."

A brief silence.

"So, you want me to come and knock some sense into him?"

"I'm probably gonna regret it but I don't know what else to do. I know I'm asking a lot but I don't know who else to turn to. I think you're the only person he'd listen to."

"Just you hang on in there, Sam; I'll be there as soon as I can."

--------------------------------

The room was quiet allowing Dean pretty much the full attention of the well endowed older woman serving drinks behind the bar. Sadly she wasn't his type and he wasn't really in the mood anyway. He was drinking a little slower than usual giving himself the luxury of enjoying the slow burn of liquid easing its way comfortingly down his throat and into his blood stream, gradually and delicately intoxicating him melting away the pain and the guilt and the loss, massaging him with it's finger tips and offering him the only peace he could find in this dark world of which he had now become a part.

He wasn't sure what time it was when everything changed.

And when everything changed he couldn't remember how much he'd drunk or how high his tab was.

And when everything changed and he heard the door open and then close, he could have sworn that he knew.

Somehow he just knew almost as if he had been here before like an odd sense of déjà vu and he wasn't sure if the sensation he felt was fear or relief but one thing he was sure of was that he wasn't anywhere near drunk enough.

He wasn't drunk enough or prepared enough or sober enough to deal with what he heard just then. The heavy footsteps approaching him from behind and the silence that followed and he wished for more time, more whisky and more space so that he could run and never look back.

But there was nowhere to run - he was cornered, trapped and it scared him more than anything had scared him before.

Knocking back another shot of whisky his stomach dropped when he heard the familiar voice, the voice that he had already predicted he would eventually hear.

"Working hard, I see, Dean. Well your Dad would be proud."

"Hey I learned from the best," Dean smirked and raised an eyebrow to no one in particular, turning the shot glass in his hand, trying his hardest to act casual but shit he was gonna kick Sammy's ass.

"Look at me when I address you boy."

The voice was low and threatening and he wasn't about to admit it but it scared the crap out of him to the extent that he felt like he had no choice but to obey the order with only minimal hesitation. Taking a deep breath he set his jaw and closed his eyes.

This was just about the very last thing he needed, but even he knew better than to mess with the pair of boots that were stood behind him.

That particular pair of boots which he knew were more than likely going to be kicking his sorry ass sometime in the not too distant future.

Straightening his shoulders and pasting on his best don't-give-a-fuck expression he slowly and deliberately twisted himself on the bar stool

and wasn't at all surprised but more than a little riled and a tad more

nervous to be looking up into the terrifyingly pissed off glare of one Bobby Singer.

TBC

_Bleatingly obvious or pleasant surprise? let me know, if you like, ta._


	9. Give Up

**A/N So yeah, it was never intended to take so long to get here but I suppose this is what I've been building up to, so thanks for sticking with me. I just hope after eight chapters this isn't a big, huge, lame ass let down - if it is - er, well sorry about that. Apologies to anyone who felt cheated by Bobby coming into the picture - I know some prefer to keep it between the brothers, but that was sort of my point - that they shouldn't have to just keep things between themselves all the time. Anyway I'll stop blithering on and let you read. Hope you like and feel free to let me know if you do - or don't.**

**Chapter 9 **

_"So just..."_

**Give Up**

Flashing Bobby one of his trademark Aren't I Just Adorable? grins he had very little time for anything else as he was grabbed by the back of his jacket and frog marched out of the bar before he could say "Bite me." Bobby then made light work of bundling him into his truck and gave him a look which told him in no uncertain terms that he had better not make a peep if he valued his scrawny ass. Good thing he wasn't in the mood for talking then. Dean was pissed. He had been looking forward to getting slowly intoxicated and now Bobby had just had to stick his pissy, red neck face into his business. He told himself the sick feeling in his stomach was indigestion and the involuntary clenching of his jaw and fists was because he needed another drink, not because he was shitting himself over what the pissy red neck was going to do to him.

He wasn't the only one experiencing nerves. Sam waited uneasily back at the motel trying hard not to chew a hole in his tongue. He was wondering if he hadn't made a terrible mistake and that maybe Dean would never forgive him for dragging Bobby into this. Getting up and pacing the length of the room for the seventh time in as many minutes he tried to calm his breathing, feeling dangerously close to throwing up. Why did it have to come to this? Why couldn't Dean be like most people and talk about what he was going through instead of messing everything up. He berated himself once again remembering that Dean _had_ tried to talk to him but Sam had been about as much use as a cardboard shovel.

What he was _really_ afraid of was what he was going to have to witness his brother put through because he had failed to help him. He didn't want to think about what would happen when the two of them came through that door. While wanting to get the whole ordeal over with he also wished for more time to prepare himself or to put off whatever was going to happen. He thought to himself that maybe this was what waiting to be hung felt like - or maybe more like waiting to watch your brother hung.

The moment when they finally entered the room was the moment that Sam felt the universe shift and his stomach twist nauseatingly - he was both relieved and terrified.

Dean came stumbling through the door first, being shoved forwards by the older man who stood in his wake, his expression dark. Dean wasted no time in regaining his balance, spinning around and regarding the old hunter defiantly, displaying the cocky, arrogant smirk that Sam had strangely missed so much but that now gave him no pleasure or comfort.

"Well lookie here Sam, guess who decided to pay us a visit - oh wait a minute- **_you called him_**!"

"Dean..." Sam's fear was evident on his face but Dean was pissed enough not to care.

"Come on now Sammy, where's your manners? How's about you crack open some beers and we'll have ourselves a little party?"

"How about you put on some coffee instead Sam?" Bobby's voice was soft when addressing the younger Winchester, but Sam was interrupted once more by his slightly intoxicated older half:

"I got a better idea. Why don't you leave us alone, old man, so's I can kick my little brother's ass?"

"The only ass that's gonna be getting kicked today, is yours son."

Dean shrugged still bearing the overly, self assured smirk on his face, but all the while beginning to feel a little hot and uncomfortable; discarding his jacket on the bed he drawled nonchalantly,

"You know what, I think I'll take a rain check," before attempting to get past Bobby to the door.

Unfortunately for him the older man had more weight behind him and took very little effort in grabbing Dean by his shirt and shoving him back fast and hard into the wall to his rear.

"I don't think so son."

Dean was trying his best to look unruffled. The alcohol in his system provided him with a little bravado but he had to admit to himself that the glare he was receiving from his late father's old friend was making his stomach do back flips.

"Y' know Bobby," he began trying his best to keep the smirk plastered to his face, "I'm flattered, really I am, but - well I like girls..." the cocky grin and the familiar sarcasm were immediately erased by Bobby dealing him another hard shove into the wall his back was against and he grunted, closing his eyes briefly in discomfort.

"You're a real smartass you know that boy? But I guess you get that from your daddy." he noticed, not disappointed, the young man whom he was eye to eye with flinch slightly at the words.

"You know, Dean, I was surprised at you. I never really had you as a quitter."

The look Bobby gave the younger man made it perfectly clear what he was referring to and that he knew all about Dean's little soiree with a gun and a single bullet.

Dean struggled ferociously under Bobby's grip, furious and devastated he half growled half shouted:

"**_You son of a bitch_**!"

Sam looked away tears filling up in his eyes. He felt like shit. Bobby was laying into Dean because he didn't have the stomach for it. Because he had screwed up the chance to help his brother when the chance had arisen. Why couldn't he have thought of something to say? Dean had poured out his guilt and his shame in the hope that his little brother might be able to make it alright but he had been rewarded with silence. Sam hated himself, he had completely failed Dean and after he had given him such a hard time about opening up in the first place. But Sam had been wrestling with his own guilt over the things he had said to their father before he left them. Things he couldn't take back or make up for and his brain had simply froze over his brother's shocking statement that he blamed himself and he believed he should be dead. Why couldn't he have thought of something? Anything. A simple: "It wasn't your fault," or: "It was dad's decision," or hell even: "I don't give a damn what you think; you're my brother and I love you and I'm not sorry that you survived." anything which would've eased his brother's torment and very likely put a stop to the chain of events which had led them here. Here where he was going to have to watch Bobby rip his big brother to pieces and just hope that they could be put back together again.

Dean's eyes had immediately filled with tears the moment he realised Bobby knew his secret. The shame he felt was unbearable knowing that the older hunter, who he admired so much knew something like that about him. He could only imagine what a low opinion Bobby must now have of him and it was more than he could stand.

"So you think you deserve to die huh?"

"No! I think I deserve to live with what I've done."

"And what about Sam? You think he deserves to lose his brother as well as his dad?"

"Leave Sam out of this. He doesn't need - me he never did."

"Oh the demon tell you that did he? And what, you're so dumb you believed it?"

The expression on Dean's face confirmed the answer, although Bobby already knew. Sam had told him everything. He was getting no enjoyment out of laying into the young man, but he felt an unusual sense of protectiveness and responsibility towards the two brothers. John Winchester was an infuriating son of a bitch but he had loved his boys and raised them incredibly well under impossible circumstances. They were flawed and damaged but they were good boys who he would've been proud to have fathered himself and he was screwed if he was just going to stand by and watch one of them destroy himself over John Winchester's selfless but ultimately devastating actions.

Dean nodded.

"I believe it, I've always believed it."

"Well then you're an idiot." a light smack was dealt to the younger man's head.

"Come on Dean, Sam needs you as much as you need him."

"Yeah? Cos I'm setting him such a fine example right?"

"We're fighting a war here, Dean. Yeah, you screwed up, and someone got hurt, but do you really think that you're the first?" a rough shake dislodged the tears which Dean was trying so hard to hold on to.

"I was up all night drinking, Bobby! I was hung over and strung out on caffeine pills - I'd hardly had _any_ sleep. I as good as murdered her. She was just a kid and now she's never waking up!" the tears falling matched the break in his voice and Bobby had to force himself to continue giving Dean another shake.

"That kid aint dead yet, and neither are you. How do you think your dad would feel knowing you nearly wasted yourself? If you're right about your dad then he basically gave up everything for you; because he wanted you to live!"

"Yeah? Well I never asked him to and I sure as hell wish he hadn't bothered!"

The outburst earned him another smack - this time a little harder - to the side of his head. Dean flinched and closed his eyes.

"You selfish, spoilt little brat! You think this is all about you? More people are going to die, Dean unless you get your head outa your ass and step up to the table."

Another smack, this time across the arm.

"Take some responsibility for yourself and have a look at what you're doing to your brother and to the innocents out there who are relying on you even though they don't know it. There's more at stake here than your damn ego Dean. Like it or not we're heading for a war which you and Sam are gonna be a part of and what's coming aint gonna wait until you're done wallowing in your own crap!"

"I didn't ask for this job. I didn't ask for any of this." the anger and defiance was back but his eyes betrayed the shame he was feeling, earning him another shove into the wall.

"Well too bad cos it's yours anyway. You're gonna keep fighting Dean and you're gonna carry on because your brother needs you, because this war needs you, because your dad needs to have died for something and because the alternative is just too damn unacceptable!"

Bobby gave the younger hunter one last shake before pulling away and stepping back. The two men stood staring at each other breathing heavily and for a second Sam thought it was all over, until Dean, rage and shame boiling in his veins, stepped forward and took his chance swinging a fist at the man in front of him. Bobby anticipated the punch in plenty of time and in one swift movement grabbed Dean's wrist, twisting it behind his back and shoved him roughly into the wall to his right.

Sam looked up close to tears seeing Bobby holding his brother, his face pressed to the wall. Dean's left arm flailed weakly until Bobby grabbed that too, forcing it back to join the other one. Dean struggled painfully, tears streaming now down his face as the deceptively strong, older hunter held his arms fast pinning him effortlessly against the wall.

"Dammit Bobby... _let go of me_!" the plea was desperate and heartbreaking and almost shattered Bobby's resolve and he had to fight just to keep his voice stern.

"Not until you listen to what I've got to say."

Dean struggled again, but Bobby held him fast, although his heart was slowly breaking at what he felt impelled to do to the young man who he respected and cared for so deeply.

"Ok, now son, listen to me," Bobby's voice had softened now hating seeing the usually self assured, confident young man so broken and exposed.

"See your brother over there? This is killing him," Dean glanced briefly at Sam who's face was tight and pinched while trying to offer something- anything to his brother who he was sure now must hate him.

"Dean, you lost your dad, but so did Sam and now he's scared he's gonna lose the only family he has left - which in case you hadn't noticed, is _you_."

There was a long pause.

"Now, tell me son, do you _really_ wanna let that happen?"

There was another pause which to Sam seemed to last minutes not seconds. Bobby waited before giving Dean a slight shake pushing him harder into the wall.

"Dean, _answer me_."

And then Sam almost sobbed with relief when he saw the slight shake of the head from his brother. It was slight but it was there and it was enough. Enough for Bobby to release his grip on Dean's fore arms and allow him to sink slowly and heavily, down the wall to the floor, ashamed and humiliated and beaten, wrapping his arms around his torso and pulling his knees up to his chest turning away from Bobby and trying his hardest to melt into the wall he was now pressed against.

Sam watched his brother draw in on himself, burying his face into his knees, his shoulders shaking, now wracked with achingly quiet sobs which he swore were tearing a hole right through his heart.

Bobby looked at the demolished sight of his old friend's eldest son, knowing that he had caused it; he had broken the young man huddled on the floor below and he swallowed hard blinking furiously at what he refused to admit were tears in his eyes, before stooping to grab the young man's upper arms, pulling him to his feet.

"Come on now son, off the floor," the order was whispered and Sam swore the hardened older man was dangerously close to tears.

Sam watched fighting back his own tears as the older hunter pulled the younger one towards him wrapping both arms around the shaking form whose sobs and cries of anguish had increased to a gut wrenching level. Bobby tightened his grip on Dean, pressing his face into his shoulder, giving the young man the comfort he had needed for so long and the next best thing to a father's embrace, rocking him gently but not saying a word, knowing that words would be meaningless and empty.

As Sam watched Dean clinging to the older man, like a boy clinging to his father, he felt his heart finally break as the realisation hit him that his big brother would never be held by his dad again and sliding to the floor he let his own grief spill out, along with the tears which had already begun to fall.

--------------------------------------------

He wasn't sure how long the three of them had remained like that but after hearing a shuffling noise he pulled his hands away from his tear streaked face and looked up wiping his eyes, to see Bobby gently, lowering his brother back to the floor again after the younger man's legs had just given way. Dean kept his face hidden, obviously still riddled with the guilt and the shame of the last few days.

Bobby grasped his chin with one rough hand and forced it upwards but Dean still refused eye contact. Trying a different tactic the elder of the two took the younger's face in both hands trying to force Dean to look at him, saying quietly:  
"Come on, son, eyes off the floor."

Dean lifted his gaze slightly but was still unable to look Bobby in the eye and the older man relented temporarily, opting to give the young man some time.

"Dean, I want you to listen to me," he rubbed a calloused hand across Dean's tear stained cheek.

"You with me buddy?" a brief nod.

"Ok then. Dean, I know you're angry with your dad, I get that," the harshness had gone from Bobby's voice and Dean struggled to keep more tears from falling.

"Whatever he did -or whatever you think he did - you shouldn't have to carry that around; no one should." Dean tried and failed to turn his face away and Bobby continued sighing brokenly.

"Dean, come on look at me."

When he received no response he gave the young man a firm tap to his cheek, repeating the order more forcefully, which caused Dean to raise his watery green eyes to meet with Bobby's still fighting back tears, reluctant to show even more weakness in front of the old hunter who he looked up to so much.

Bobby glared at him, his own eyes watering, trying to be firm but his voice betraying the sorrow he felt for the boy in front of him.

"Dammit, Dean; you don't have to carry this on your own."

Dean closed his eyes and decided it was time to give up. Give up trying to hold back the tears. Give up trying to hold in the grief. Give up trying to be strong and unshakeable and Bobby watched more tears fall as Dean kept his eyes averted and this time Bobby let him.

Sighing again he gave the young man a slight shake.

"Dean..."

A brief pause and then gesturing with his head he spoke:

"Your brother's still here, son - and all he wants is to take care of you," he glanced over at the youngest Winchester who was sat dejectedly on the floor near the doorway.

"Your dad always told you to take care of young Sam did he not?" Bobby's voice was devastatingly soft and all Dean could do was nod, not trusting his voice in the slightest.

Bobby then raised his voice slightly:

"Yeah, well _I'm_ telling you that you need to let _him_ take care of _you, _at least once in a while. You hear me?" giving Dean another small shake he was rewarded with a slight nod as another tear spilled down the young Winchester's cheek.

"Good boy," smacking Dean's arm lightly he called to the younger of the two: "Sam, get your ass over here kiddo."

Sam wasted no time in taking Bobby's place in front of his older sibling placing his injured hand on Dean's knee and the other on his shoulder.

"Dean," Sam hesitated unsure of whether his brother even wanted him anywhere near him.

"There's something I need to tell you, man - something I should've said days ago, but..."

He stopped to take a breath, tears still present in his eyes and rubbed his uninjured hand across his face trying to summon the strength that he wished he'd found earlier that week on the road side, when his brother had needed him. Dean simply looked at him slightly quizzical. Sam continued his voice just above a whisper trying hard not to let it break.

"I'm so sorry man, I should've told you this and I didn't and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He was eye to eye with Dean now who was rapidly shaking his head but the action was ignored by Sam.

"The thing is Dean, I - I wish more than anything that dad was here. I wish I could tell him I don't hate him and that I'm sorry for all that crap I laid on him. I mean I told him to go to hell, man."

Sam ducked his head his own guilt still agonisingly fresh.

"I'd give anything to take back what I said, Dean, but... I can't. He's gone and I - I can't change that."

Another pause as Sam shook his head slightly, looking away before returning his gaze to look his big brother in the eye as he finally found the words he wished he'd spoken on that day which now seemed so long ago.

And when he finally spoke the words his voice was fierce and strong and true.

"I don't give a_ damn_ what you think happened back there, Dean. I don't care if you're right about Dad - I don't care if he died to save you and I don't care if you think it's your fault.

You're my brother and I love you and I'm not sorry you survived. I'm not sorry at all."

Apparently these words - to Sam's overwhelming relief - were precisely the words that Dean needed to hear, that he had needed to hear for so long although he hadn't even known it and as his head dropped and as his face crumpled Sam spared him any more indignity by gently pressing his brother's face into his shoulder and wrapping his uninjured other arm around his brother's back pulling him close.

As Dean began to cry softly - Sam was relieved the gut wrenching sobs were gone - he held on to his brother tightly, ferociously, daring anyone to try and separate them, determined to stay there as long as Dean needed him, even if that was for ever.

And as Dean's arms grasped desperately onto his little brother, the gentle, broken sobs continued releasing the grief and the guilt he had tried so hard to hold on to. _Better late than never_ Sam thought bitterly to himself and allowing his own tears to soak into his brother's hair he simply whispered:

"I'm here man, I'm here."

TBC

_I wrote the majority of this chapter quite a while ago - in fact it was one of the first I wrote - and while watching the season finale (wow btw) I was a little concerned I may have to change Bobby's character depending on how he reacted to 'certain things' in that episode. However after seeing him in THAT scene (if you've seen it you'll know what I'm talking about) I was relieved to say the least, as his reaction was exactly what I had hoped it would be and now I love him even more. Hope he's gonna be back for season 3._

_Oh yeah if you think the angst ends here then you're sorely mistaken - the boys have still got a job to finish - but don't worry I won't be too hard on them. Much._


	10. After

_Ok, Heather so I cracked - this is for you ; )_

**Chapter 10 **

**After **

It was some time before Sam felt the crush of his brother's arms give way, leading him to believe that Dean wanted to pull out of his brother's hold. Slowly loosening his own grip he was forced to tighten it again when he felt his brother's body sag heavily against him and he realised he had fallen asleep. Reluctant to let go of Dean he stayed put, absently stroking his brother's hair, making the most of the contact and closeness that rarely occurred between them. Dean had broken down but he knew that was only the beginning. There was so much that needed to be said and he had no idea how to say it or whether even Dean would want to listen. But now Dean slept peacefully in his arms and whether he could hear him or not Sam wanted to tell him things. Things he couldn't say while they were both awake. Things which would have made them both uncomfortable, so he took advantage of the situation and inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the fact that Dean was asleep and couldn't give him one of his looks, or make fun of him or tell him to shut up.

Sighing heavily he whispered:

"I don't know if you can hear me man, but I want you to know - I'm sorry I haven't been much help to you. But I'm here now, ok? You don't have to do this on your own anymore."

He smiled to himself.

"I guess things are pretty screwed up right now huh?"

He continued stroking the short hair without even realising he was doing it. He wasn't sure if his monologue was for his benefit or for Dean's. It was unlikely that Dean could hear him but then maybe on some level the words would sink in. Sam hoped so, but all the while drew comfort from the gentle breathing of his brother, whose head rested heavily on his shoulder, while he continued his one sided conversation.

"I don't know how we're gonna get through this but I promise you, bro we will. One way or another we'll get through this. You just have to stop being an ass and let me help you ok?"

There was no response but Sam nodded to himself.

"Yeah, we'll be ok."

Sam's back ached from the weight of his brother and it occurred to him that he ought to get Dean on to the bed otherwise he would waken aching all over. Sam shifted himself first kneeling and then moving into a crouching position putting his hands under his brother's arms in order to pull him up.

"Dammit Dean, you're heavy," he grunted as his knees and back complained. Placing Dean's arm across his own shoulders and grasping him round the waist he half carried half dragged the sleeping lump of six foot four hunter across to the bed where he gently laid him down and removed his boots. Then he lay down on his own bed watching his brothers breathing the creases gone from his forehead and his expression almost peaceful. He thought about the past week and everything that had happened. He knew he had done the right thing in calling Bobby - hell it wasn't as if things could've got any worse and Bobby had managed to get through Dean's defences in a way that Sam couldn't. If he was honest he had to admit that he felt a failure. He should have been able to help his brother but then again when did Dean ever let him. Dean was always too concerned with trying to shield his little brother from the tempest that raged inside him, holding on to everything so as not destroy the illusion that he was unbreakable.

The irony was that Sam had never been fooled by it and rather than be protected by his brother's shield, all it ever achieved was to hurt him. He knew that his big brother wasn't as hardened as he liked to make out and that just beneath the surface was a damaged and frightened boy not too different from himself but for some reason he felt that this needed to be kept hidden from Sam. The younger Winchester wondered how he could be so blind, so ignorant of the fact that Sam, his own brother had no difficulty seeing beyond the walls, beyond the facade and into Dean's fractured soul, causing him all the more pain because all he wanted to do was help, but Dean wouldn't, couldn't allow it. Dean thought he was protecting Sam but in fact he was destroying him little by little. Until now. Thanks to an old friend, who appeared to care about the two brothers as if they were his own, Dean had been able to let go and allow the person who loved him and trusted him the most behind his defences and now Sam was terrified but also determined not to let him down this time.

He continued to watch his brother sleep, thankful for the peace that had been finally granted to him and prayed that it would last. Last at least long enough for Dean to recover some of his strength and his spirit. Sam's own exhaustion was beginning to take hold and he reluctantly allowed his own eyelids which had become too heavy to slowly close, blocking out the comforting vision of his brother as he drifted into a light slumber.

Some time passed before he was jolted awake by a strangled cry and the sound of someone gasping greedily for breath as if close to drowning. He opened his eyes to see his brother flat on his back staring wide eyed, terrified at the ceiling. He jumped up from his bed and hurried across to his brother's side placing a hand on his shoulder, causing Dean to sit up startled. Their eyes locked for a second but Sam saw no recognition there and was thankful for his lightening speed reactions when Dean grabbed for his throat. Gasping frantically, he was unable to acquire any sort of grip as Sam instantly shrugged off his hands, grasped his forearms and pushed him back on to the bed, pinning down his arms, disabling his brother effortlessly. Dean glared at him like a wild and scared animal considering whether to attack as Sam tried desperately to get his brother to focus on him, to see him.

"Hey, take it easy, buddy, it's just me."

Dean didn't seem to hear him and struggled still afraid, under his grip, causing Sam to raise his voice.

"_Dean! Look at me!_ It's me - it's Sammy!" The use of his nickname seemed to get through to Dean but his defences were still up, still struggling to be released.

"Get off me." his voice was fierce and Sam thought he saw tears in his eyes which still shone with fury, bringing him to the conclusion that Dean wasn't fully back with him yet.

"Not until you calm down, man."

Dean closed his eyes taking in a shuddering breath, still gasping.

"That's it man just breath. You're ok. I got ya.'"

Slowly Dean's breathing calmed and Sam loosened his grip and pulled Dean into a sitting position, moving to his side to rub his back, still encouraging him to breathe.

Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to regain control, the remnants of the nightmare melting away only to be replaced by equally unsettling memories. Sam grasped the back of his neck attempting to massage away the tenseness and the fear but Dean pushed him off and headed for the bathroom without saying a word. Sam heard the sound of running water and sat patiently waiting for his brother to come back to him. When he did his face was ashen which made the shadows under his eyes stand out all the more as he stood leaning against the far wall, arms wrapped around himself, staring straight ahead, apparently reluctant to go near his bed opting instead to lower himself to sit on the hard floor.

"Nightmare?"

Dean just nodded, tears clearly visible in his eyes.

Sam got up and joined his brother on the floor, positioned on Dean's right side, allowing their shoulders to touch slightly but other than that retaining a level of distance. He didn't want his brother to bolt and he still seemed disorientated and confused.

"What happened?"

Dean remained silent, and Sam waited but his patience went unrewarded.

"I said what happened?"

"I heard you the first time and I don't wanna talk about it." Dean's voice was cold and still and reminded Sam of before and he was suddenly infuriated.

"Yeah well too bad Dean, cos I'm not letting it go this time."

Dean snorted blinking a little.

"You are gonna talk about this whether you like it or not Dean, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

Dean turned to him his eyes wide and ferocious, his face contorted into a sneer.

"_Make me_."

Sam pushed himself to his feet, and started pacing around the room gesturing wildly with his hands.

"Dammit Dean, how long are we gonna keep on doing this? Going round in circles like... like rats in those little wheels, round and round and never going anywhere."

Dean frowned at the odd metaphor.

"_Rats_? In _wheels_?"

Sam continued his pacing still furious.

"Yeah Dean, _rats_. I mean nothing's changed has it? I keep on trying and you keep on pushing and we get nowhere. I mean I gotta tell ya dude, I've had pretty much all I can take of this dumb, self destructive, defensive, take on the world alone attitude of yours. I'm done with it Dean, so you'd better just tell me what happened or I'll... I'll... kick your ass."

He emphasised his comment by pointing a finger in Dean's direction and stood looking down at him slightly breathless.

Sam's failure to come up with a convincing threat, along with his endearingly animated mini rant seemed to amuse Dean briefly. Sam caught the flicker in his brother's eyes and sat back down next to him, still breathing loudly, bearing the scowl which always reminded Dean of his brother as a grouchy, angst ridden teenager. Some things didn't change.

"You done?"

Sam huffed, "I'm done."

There was a brief silence as Dean appeared to prepare himself and then Sam was a little surprised when he sighed heavily and spoke, reluctantly, devoid of all emotion but unprompted.

"I hear her, Sam. She's screaming at me."

Sam went cold at the empty tone of his brother's speech but said nothing allowing him to continue.

"There's blood everywhere, it's all over me and I can't get it off."

Sam turned to his brother, frowning slightly, his face tightening in sympathy.

"I can still hear her. And I hear her in my dreams. She's screaming at me to help her... and... I can't..."

Dean's voice trailed away, breaking slightly and Sam removed his gaze, unsure of what he could say to make things better. No matter what they did or how hard they tried the darkness always seemed to find them. You couldn't escape memories or guilt and even if you buried them in the day they would find you in the loneliness of your sleep where there was only you and no one there to catch you when you fell. In sleep you were alone and there was no one to make it better or chase the horrors away, you simply had to face them - alone - and just cling to the hope that eventually you would wake up. But there was always the fear that this time you wouldn't - that the darkness would consume you and you would be trapped forever in a repeating nightmare, that you could never escape and where all those that you loved and relied on were on the other side of an impenetrable wall that could not be climbed over or destroyed and you would be lost to them forever.

"I wish I could take it away man. I wish I could make it better for you ... I wish I could bring Dad back and I wish I'd never taken you on that stupid hunt..."

"There's nothing you can do, and it's not your fault. Besides Casey would be dead if we..."

"I don't give a damn about her, all I care about right now is you."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I? All I know Dean is if I hadn't forced you into that hunt then we'd be none the wiser and then maybe..."

Sam's voice trailed off as he realised the futility of his words, as well as the fact that they weren't true. He knew it was right that they went after that thing; he just wished he had tied his brother to a chair or something - stopped him from going out that night. All he could think of was the things that he could have done, the things that he didn't do to prevent what had happened. Shit, he and Dean were more alike than he previously thought.

He shook his head and allowed the silence to settle between them; not sure if he should speak again he glanced at Dean's face trying to work out whether he required space or if what he really needed was his little brother right beside him. He was given no clue so instead opted for a slight sight and what he believed was a light hearted comment.

"So you still wanna kick my ass for calling Bobby?"

When Dean didn't reply, his expression dark Sam shifted uncomfortably. Not so much of a light hearted comment then. When was he going to get it right and actually say something helpful?

"Dean, don't be mad at me, ok?"

"Why did you have to call him Sam?" Dean's voice betrayed no anger or accusation - just sadness and regret.

"Why Dean?" Sam involuntarily raised his voice a notch.

"Why? Because you were pushing me away, man; because you wouldn't let me help you and because I didn't know what the hell else to do."

"Where is he anyway?"

"I guess he went to get a room, probably thought we could do with some time alone."

Dean shook his head. He was glad Bobby wasn't here and he wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing him again that was for certain. He hated it that he had shown his weaknesses to the older man. Crying out his soul on Bobby's shoulder was something he could never take back, erase or pretend never happened and that would always be between them now. To him that was definitely not a good thing and he could only assume that Bobby felt the same.

"Everything's messed up now."

Sam's brow creased not understanding.

"He knows everything. What I did. What the hell must he think of me now?"

He turned to Sam locking sorrow filled eyes with him causing Sam's anger to rise once more, almost spluttering out his words.

"The same as he did before Dean. Do you really believe he thinks any less of you now? Do you think I would have called him if I thought he was gonna judge you?"

Dean didn't respond but looked away.

"Dean, Bobby thinks the _world_ of you. That hasn't changed."

Dean snorted disbelievingly and Sam suddenly realised how much Dean still despised himself.

"And what about you Sam?" The sarcasm was practically dripping from Dean's mouth. "Do you still think '_the world'_ of me?"

Sam shook his head furious. After everything that had happened Dean still didn't get how much he was valued. How much he was loved.

"You _stupid_, _dumbass, idiotic, fuck_! You still don't get it do you?"

Dean face twitched and his eyes filled with tears as he sensed his brother's anger about to erupt. _Sam_ didn't get it. Sam didn't get how ashamed he felt. How vulnerable and weak and afraid he was. Sam didn't get how he had no idea how he was going to continue from this moment, having bared his soul to the two people from whom he had always tried to keep it hidden. How _could _Sam get that? Sam didn't care about such things. Pride and Sam didn't go together. Sam didn't care if he appeared weak or vulnerable, didn't shy away from crying in public or in private, didn't think it made you a wuss to say 'I love you' once in a while and didn't believe that sobbing out your grief in your baby brother's arms until you fell asleep was either a failing or something to be ashamed of.

Unfortunately Dean did and Sam's words were like a hot poker in his soul.

"Don't you know how important you are to me Dean? Have you still no idea...how much you _mean_ to me?"

Sam's voice though laced with fury had begun to break as he felt tears sting in his eyes. He gazed at his brother, who simply stared ahead refusing to allow the words which he found so hard to hear, to shake him visibly, still hiding behind that mask. But Sam continued.

"Dean, you're my brother and my best friend and I'd be totally screwed without you man. Why can't you get that into your thick head?"

Sam stood again and walked away running a hand across his face trying to calm his anger. He knew Dean was still fragile and probably couldn't deal with another verbal lashing. Turning back to his brother, he crouched down in front of him softening his voice to a level that he hoped Dean could more easily tolerate.

"Hey, come on man, don't make me say_ the word_ again."

Dean's mouth twitched with what Sam recognised as a smile, but it was fleeting and his eyes were now downcast betraying the part of him that still couldn't believe in his own self worth. When Dean finally spoke, the sound almost broke him.

"It hurts Sam."

Sam nodded sympathetically, looking away trying to force back the tears which kept appearing for his brother.

"I hate myself... so much. For what I did. To dad. To _you_." Dean's voice broke painfully and Sam sighed in frustration and took a swift wipe at his eyes.

"Well then I guess it's a good thing that _I _love you, right? You wanna hate yourself, I can't stop you but just remember _that_ while you're beating the shit out of yourself, ok?"

Dean blinked slowly, and then looked up at his brother.

"You think she'll ever wake up?"

Sam shook his head sadly.

"I dunno man, but you know... we can't save everyone right?"

Dean scrubbed a hand across his face, sniffed and spoke unconvincingly with just a hint of bitterness:

"Yeah. Right."

Sam shook his head and sighed in resignation taking back his seat at his brother's side. He had pretty much dried up when it came to pearls of wisdom so he opted for a quip instead, nudging Dean's shoulder affectionately.

"So, you wanna watch some porn?"

Dean turned to him with a look of disgust and disbelief, but a glimmer of amusement.

Sam just shrugged.

"Sorry. I guess that was a little inappropriate."

"A little?"

Sam smiled at his brother, recognising a glimpse of the man he knew, staring back at him, within the pools of grey and green. Leaning his head against the wall he sighed again and then turned his focus back on Dean.

"Come on dude you should get some sleep."

"Can't sleep."

"Dean..."

"She's always there Sam."

Sam nodded his eyes welling up.

"I know man, I know."

Sam took a breath trying to even out his voice which was now shaking.

"But I'll always be here when you wake up. Ok? I'll _always_ be here."

The brothers locked eyes again for several seconds, before Dean accepted Sam's outstretched hand, allowing him to pull him to his feet. The brothers undressed and climbed wearily into their respective beds and it wasn't long before sleep claimed them, Dean too exhausted to fight it and Sam just hoping for some release, glad of the excuse to escape the nightmares that tortured their waking lives.

--------------------

When Dean awoke again, this time it wasn't a nightmare that interrupted his sleep, although he had been beset with disturbing visions and images during most of the night. Something was troubling his mind and it was something that needed his immediate attention, but somehow he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like a fleeting image at the corner of his eye but when he turned his head it simply vanished. He got up to use the bathroom and noticed that it was just getting light. Taking the time to have a quick wash and brushing his teeth he considered the visions absently, unsure if they were just dreams or if his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Finishing off he walked across to his bed and was about to sit down when he noticed his father's journal on the table near the window. Pulling up a chair he began to flick through the pages and found his dad's entry on Wood Wraiths. He recognised the information his brother had passed on, which he remembered due to the uncanny similarities with the Shtriga the brothers had hunted some time ago. Turning the page he came across something his brother hadn't mentioned and his world suddenly stopped. Running a shaky hand through his cropped, spiky hair he felt his heart begin to race and his breathing change dramatically. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt his eyes sting with tears as the full weight of his father's words hit him square in the face.

TBC

_Yeah I know another cliff hanger but I know you like them really. After this you may be pleased to hear there are only three chapters left to go and then maybe I can get back to Real Life. Or at least do some reading instead of writing._


	11. Stand

**A/N ok so I lied about there been 3 chapters left - there are actually 4 more (that's including this one). Thing is chapters 11 and 12 were originally going to be just the one but it got quite long and I decided it would work better if I split it into two. But so as not to leave you with yet another cliff hanger I posted them together. Hope you enjoy. **

**Chapter 11 **

**Stand **

Bobby hadn't been up long when he heard the frantic banging on the door of his room. He briefly considered ignoring it and pretending he wasn't there; he had had enough of Winchester dramas for one day and had been looking forward to spending the morning reading a paper, having a greasy fry up and drinking copious amounts of coffee. Throwing on a t-shirt and pulling on his cap - his hair wasn't one for the mornings - he muttered irritably to himself:

"What the hell have those boys gone and done now?"

Sighing deeply when the banging repeated itself, he decided that he really ought to find out what kind of Deep Shit the pair of trouble magnets had now managed to get themselves into.

Opening the door he wasn't at all surprised to see the youngest of the Winchester family gaping at him, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and terrified.

"Bobby, I need your help - I need to borrow your truck. _Now_."

Standing aside to let the distressed young man into his room Bobby looked at him frowning slightly but unperturbed by Sam's demeanour. Knowing Sam, he had probably discovered an unusual species of mould growing in the motel room fridge and was desperate to contact environmental health and have it removed and the whole area quarantined. Holding up his hands he attempted to calm the young man who he knew had a tendency for excitability and overreacting.

_Kids_ - he thought fondly to himself.

"Sam, slow down. What's going on?"

Sam entered and spun around running a hand through his floppy, brown locks. Trying to calm his breathing he turned his glare on Bobby.

"It's Dean..." he paused to get his breath.

"Well that much I gathered." the older man stood his arms folded across his chest. Deep down he knew the only thing that could get Sam this riled was the boys older brother, but then knowing Dean he had probably woken with a craving for meat and had headed off in the direction of some cheeseburgers or some other form of junk that today's youngsters seemed to be so fond of. His brow furrowed he stood waiting patiently for Sam to get out his story that was obviously so important it couldn't wait until Bobby had had time to have his obligatory morning cup of coffee.

"He took off. He's must have snuck out while I was still asleep. The Impalas gone and I don't know how much time we have but we gotta go _now_."

Bobby scrubbed a weary hand across his face. He knew it. Another minor event magically transformed into a major drama and it wasn't even seven thirty yet.

"Sam just calm down. You know Dean; he's probably just gone to get somethin' to eat."

Bobby tried his hardest to keep his voice at a moderate level even though his patience was generally thin anyway at this hour of the day. He _still _hadn't had coffee and he really could do without the latest adventures of Sam and Dean and he was about to say as much when Sam's voice increased in it's ferocity and his face became even more animated - if that was at all possible - and the next words that exited the young man's mouth were enough to make the seasoned hunter's blood run cold.

"No -no-no-no you don't understand. He's gone after the Wraith. _Alone."_

_-----------_

The two hunters took off in the direction of Minnesota as fast as Bobby's truck would allow. Bobby's need for coffee now overshadowed by his much more pressing need to catch up with Dean and kick his skinny, white, Kansas ass all over again. Sam had been able to regain his composure now that they were on the road and had begun to explain the situation to Bobby. The situation which was sounding more and more like a situation of Deep Shit as Sam relayed what he believed had occurred in order for Dean to begin this - even for his common sensory challenged older brother - particularly stupid and insane mission.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe I missed. I never do that. I mean maybe the pages were stuck together or something."

Bobby shot him a glance but said nothing, knowing that Sam would get to the point eventually.

"It's my fault all this happened in the first place and now he's gonna go get himself killed. I'm such an idiot!"

Bobby shook his head - what was it with these Winchesters and their desire to shoulder the blame for every damn thing that went wrong?

"Sam, take it easy. How is this your fault?"

"The whole hunt was my idea and I didn't research it properly. I missed something. This morning I found Dad's journal open on the table. Dean had obviously found this extra page of information and I missed it."

"Ok, so what did you miss?"

"The Wraith retains a kind of photographic or psychic memory of anyone or anything that attacks it. Remembers their scent, their aura or something, like a connection or link - it's kind of a defence mechanism, allowing it to destroy anything that may be a threat. Dean's scent will drive it insane with rage - it'll be more pissed than you can imagine and it will be able to detect Dean from a mile off and then it'll be on his ass like a rash and he won't stand a chance."

"But you say Dean knows about this, right? What make you think he can't handle it? He obviously seems to think he can."

"Because my brother is an idiot, Bobby, as you well know."

Bobby shrugged slightly.

"He's not thinking about the risks, he just wants to kill it."

"I can understand that, but why didn't he just wait for you. I mean what's the rush?"

"Did you not just hear the part about him being an idiot?"

Bobby gave Sam a warning glance, causing Sam to look away a little contrite at how he was speaking to the older man. Sam changed his tone quickly.

"Besides there's something else I missed. If a Wraith is interrupted while feeding, it also retains a kind of psychic link on the victim, gradually draining his or her energy and eventually killing them regardless of where they are or how far away. Although the further the distance the more time it takes but it's still only a matter of time. A matter of days. Unless you can kill it. Dean knows that if he doesn't waste that thing soon that kid's gonna die. He's trying to save her life."

Bobby sighed frustrated at the oldest surviving Winchester and his ability for incredible stupidity and rashness.

"Why the hell didn't he just wake us? He must've known we would have gone with him."

"I've given up trying to figure out what goes off inside his head, Bobby. I can only imagine that he saw what he saw and went into auto pilot not wanting to waste anymore time. I know Dean and he'll no doubt be holding himself entirely responsible for this. I mean he could already be too late."

Sam shook his head his stomach turning at the thought of that prospect and what it would do to his brother. Pushing the thought out of his head he focused on the belief that they still had time and that everything was going to be alright dammit because it had to be. Because they deserved a break right? And because they really, really couldn't be expected to take much more.

"He still sees this as his mess. I think he feels he has to fix this himself. Alone."

"Damn Winchesters and there stubborn ass ways."

Sam smirked at Bobby raising an eyebrow.

"I hope you're not including me in that sweeping generalisation, Bobby."

Bobby shot him a brief glance.

"Oh, you have your moments boy believe me."

Sam smiled briefly then frowned picking up his phone and trying it for the tenth time, again frustrated when he reached the familiar voicemail.

"Dammit!"

Bobby looked over sympathetically

"You know that could be a good sign. Means he's still on the road."

"Uh yeah Bobby and you know what? It could also mean that he's out there, bleeding to death while I sit here with my thumb up my ass!"

Bobby was not appreciating how the young man was speaking to him today and shot him another dark look.

"Boy, unless you want me to land you a swift smack upside your head, you'll do well to watch your tone."

Sam looked at him apologetically and a little nervous at the threat which he knew wasn't an empty one.

"That kind of talk is not gonna help Dean one bit. We'll catch up with him; just you sit tight and keep trying his phone."

---------------------

If it was at all possible for Dean to be more pissed with himself then he didn't know how and he really didn't want to. He was unsure of how long he had to save Casey's life, but he reckoned it wasn't a great deal considering how much time he had already wasted wallowing in his 'own crap'- as Bobby had so delicately phrased it - and he sure as hell didn't want to waste any more. He knew that Sam was going to be furious with him and Bobby would probably rip him a new one too - again - but right now that was the least of his worries as he gripped the wheel willing the Impala to go faster, his jaw so tense he thought it might shatter.

All this time that thing had been feeding off the girl, slowly destroying her in her sleep and no one knew. Except their Dad. John's words were written down in black and white for them to see but he had been so stupid and wrapped up in his own shit that he hadn't thought to do further research to see if there was anything he could do. The terror he felt that he was going to be too late was almost killing him. He suddenly felt that maybe he had been given a second chance and that maybe the universe didn't hate him after all but he knew that if he managed to destroy the Wraith and it turned out to be too little too late and the girl died anyway then he would go from screwed up to breaking point in sixty seconds and the grief would surely destroy him and this time no one would be able to save him. Not even Sam. It was that thought that kept him going and his foot pushed to the floor as he forced himself to stay focused on his goal, refusing to let the fear and the guilt sway him.

What neither Dean, nor Bobby, nor Sam knew was that the distance between them was surprisingly short. If Dean hadn't jumped a red light and the pair on his tail hadn't stopped to re fuel, then they probably would have caught up with the solo hunter sooner rather than later. But as it happened Bobby and Sam were forced to continue their journey unaware of how much time they had, how far ahead Dean was and whether they would make in time to save his sorry ass from himself and the Wraith.

------------------------

Dean wasn't considering the fact that two very pissed off hunters were bearing down on him and was focusing his attentions on how much he was going to relish killing the thing that had indirectly messed up his head over the last few days. That thing was going to die today one way or another of that much he was certain, because this time he was going to do it right, this time he sure as hell wasn't going to miss and hopefully this time there wouldn't be any teenage kids to get in his line of fire.

He didn't notice the hours pass and the change of direction of the sun; all he could think about was getting back to Minnesota, back to the forest and back to the clearing. The journey was irrelevant and made no impact on his memory; it was as if he had got in the car that morning and arrived instantly at the fateful spot where he had begun the journey which was destined to blow everything to shit all those days ago.

It was the same but different, as if somehow fate had tainted this place and created some kind of invisible shroud across it telling anyone that came here that they should leave and never come back. But Dean couldn't leave. He had a job to finish which was well overdue and he wasn't going to bail this time. Checking his weapon for the fourth occasion since he had set of that morning, be began his trek into the woods, the sense of déjà vu not lost on him. Of course he was different now. He was afraid, he was wary, and he was damaged and weakened his confidence knocked but maybe that was a good thing, because now he held a healthy fear and respect for his prey but more importantly his head was firmly screwed on because this was his last chance and he really couldn't afford to mess it up.

His boots felt heavy to him as he made the journey towards the clearing, the moderately warm sun feeling too hot to him bringing a thin sheen of sweat to his forehead. The ground seemed to sink beneath each step and with every passing second his soul seemed to weigh him down that little bit more. But he didn't falter and his feet continued to carry him further and further from the road towards the darkness that awaited him. It had taken them less than an hour to arrive there the first time they had made this journey but Dean had no idea of how many minutes had passed. He remembered the way somehow and he didn't really have to think about it - it was if he knew exactly where to go as if something was calling him, beckoning him and reeling him in and it made him shudder with the thought that maybe it wasn't him who was doing the hunting.

And then he saw it. The place where everything had come crashing down around him, where the air seemed heavy with death and fear and the agonising sound of a young girls screams, exploding in his ears and almost sending him crashing to his knees. He gasped as his mind was assaulted by images and memories too horrifying, the sound of a gunshot and the sickening smell of blood pounding his senses making him want to throw up. He forced himself to breathe as he walked over to the spot where she had fallen staring almost hypnotised and he heard her in his mind screaming at him begging him once more to help her.

For a moment there was only him in the entire universe and nothing else existed. Lost in his own head, his world melted away and he forgot why he was here and he forgot all the things his dad had taught him. He forgot his senses and he forgot his weapon and he forgot that he was supposed to always,_ always _check his six and of course he had no idea that he was about to be attacked by the very thing which he hunted and it was on top of him before he even knew it was there.

Pain exploded across his back rudely awakening him from his daze as he felt sharp talons tear through the skin sending him crashing to his knees. He reached behind him for his weapon which was stuffed in his seat pocket, but before he could grasp it he was knocked hard in the face by something blunt and heavy, sending him sprawling on to his back gasping in pain. Now face to face with the Wraith he could just about make out the outline of the creature and he was instantly gripped by a crippling terror knowing that the beast had caught him off guard and now held the advantage.

Before he had time to react the Wraith lashed him cruelly across the chest, ripping through his shirt and his skin, immediately drawing a cry of pain from the hunter, his eyes screwing up tightly as he fought to regain control. He attempted to back off but was grabbed around the throat and held high in the air before being thrown across the clearing his head colliding with a tree as he landed heavily. Dazed he pushed himself up into a sitting position feeling the warm trickle of blood seep down his face from the wound on the side of his head. His skull pounding, he once again reached for his gun but it was no longer there. The force of being thrown several feet in the air had dislodged it from it's place in his pocket and it lay on the grass some feet away out of Dean's reach.

His breathing increased along with his heart rate as the creature made its way closer and closer to him and the realisation hit him that it didn't just want to feed, it wanted to play with him, torture him first. His eyes wide and fixed on the beast, he watched, swallowing hard and trying to blink the tears and sweat out of his eyes in order to focus on the thing that approached. Sat with his back pressed against the tree he had fallen into he let out a desperate and terrified gasp as the Wraith's clawed hand reached down and grabbed his face. Their eyes locked and Dean was suddenly paralysed with fear. He was going to die now and so was Casey. He had failed and all he could think about was how he had let her down along with everyone he cared about and shit Sammy would be so pissed with him.

The creature moved it's hungry jaw closer to Dean's and he was sure it was about to feed until it hesitated and released him lashing viciously across the face with it's claws leaving two trails of crimson, one across his left cheek and another above the eyebrow.

The force of the blow knocked Dean face down on to the floor, laughing almost hysterical as he realised his time wasn't yet up and the creature was planning on having some more fun. Deciding he would have some of his own he kicked out hard with both feet at the creatures legs momentarily disabling it as it screeched in anger. Taking his chance he scurried on his hands and knees over to where his weapon had fallen and was about to wrap his strong fingers around it when he felt a set of talons scrape down his leg tearing the skin through his jeans effortlessly, forcing out a soul deep cry of pain from Dean's lungs, as it grabbed his foot and flipped him on to his back, his gun now behind him just inches out of his reach.

Dean panted and gasped trying to push away the burning sensation in his leg as he felt the sickening dampness soak through his jeans wondering how long he had before he bled to death.

Once again facing the creature Dean was gripped by fear as he stared up into the face of the one who wanted his soul. Gasping painfully for breath as his chest tightened, his hair was grabbed and his head pulled back hard as the Wraith hovered over him pulling him off the ground towards it's jaw and Dean knew it was lunch time.

Stretching his arm behind him he felt the muscles pull agonisingly as he attempted to make his arm longer than it was. The creature paused and seemed to relish the sheer terror and agony in it's prey's eyes as they locked with it's own and Dean swore he could see right into the thing and what he saw was darkness and death and nothing else and it seemed to be calling to him, tempting him to become one with the shadows which lay beyond the dark and empty holes in the creatures head, almost as if it knew him and the things he desired and the never ending ache that lay in his battered soul, the ache to rest to flee and to escape and to simply cease to be.

And then for some reason he blinked and he told himself it was the sweat and blood dripping into his eyes but it was enough to break free from the hypnotic gaze and he made one last attempt to increase the length of his arm his face screwing up in pain as the muscles and tendons screamed.

And then he felt it; the touch of metal on his finger tip and it was enough to gain purchase and claw it towards him until his hand wrapped tightly around the reassuring, cold barrel of his gun. Using all his strength he brought it up to point at the creatures head and suddenly he went limp losing the use of his arm and pretty much everything else. Time seemed to stop and his arm simply hung there the gun pointing at the ground. His mind was still and quiet and he felt incredibly peaceful as the Wraith began to feed on him, sucking out his energy, his spirit and everything that defined him and in that moment which seemed to last an age he considered allowing it to take it's full and surrender to the wrench on his soul. Maybe _this _was his time now, _this_ was his chance; his chance to rid himself of the nightmares and the horror and the pain and to _finally_ get some rest. In that moment he could have happily sank into the sweet oblivion that beckoned him and in that moment the feeling of complete serenity that overcame him was almost enough to stop him fighting and relinquish his tentative hold on this frequently miserable and thankless existence.

Until he heard it.

That sound that could pierce his soul like ice and fire, the one thing that could reach him, that could touch him, that could make him open his eyes, that could awaken him from his dreams and from his nightmares and the one thing that spoke truth where there was only lies and seek him out finding him in the darkness and pulling him forcefully into the light. It was his beginning and his end and the only sound in the universe which gave his life any meaning.

It was the irrepressible and tenacious sound of his flesh, his blood - his brother, screaming his name as if his was the only name left in the world and on hearing that he made the only decision that could ever make sense.

He brought up his weapon, corrected his aim and pulled the trigger.

TBC


	12. Here

**Chapter 12 **

**Here **

This time the bullet reached its desired target sure and fast and without faltering. As the cold silver pierced the Wraith's skull Dean felt his world freeze and he was surrounded by the most unearthly silence as the claw released it's grip on his hair allowing him to fall heavily and painfully on to the solid ground beneath him, causing dust and grass particles and pollen to fly into the air around him surrounding him in a soft blanket of mist, protecting him from the world and all the pain that it held.

Staring up at the blue sky dotted with clouds he felt his soul lift and had his spirit left his body in that most peaceful of moments he knew would have been happy. He let out a slow breath and felt a tear trickle down the side of his face and on to the grass which cushioned his battered body and for the first time in ages he felt at one with himself and the world around him and he felt the most uncontrollable urge to close his eyes and allow the welcoming ground to swallow him whole, drawing him far and away and granting him the sleep and rest that he needed, that he wanted so much.

But his peace was soon broken and his mind snapped cruelly back into hard, cold reality as the Wraith staggered back, the silver bullet lodged firmly in its brain and released the most unearthly scream, shattering the silence, as its skin changed from the almost invisible camouflage to the colour of stone.

And Dean screamed with it.

As his connection with the wraith was brutally severed, shock waves of white heat coursed through his veins and he felt as if every nerve was on fire, his body arching and finger nails digging involuntarily into the hard ground.

The scream lasted the same amount of time it took for Sam to arrive at his side, Bobby not too far behind and they were just in time to see the creature crumble into dust at Dean's feet which now kicked and struggled with the agony he felt within him.

The creature was dead but the pain continued drawing broken and wrenching gasps from the young man as Sam took hold of his battered face, calling his name, terrified and shocked not understanding why his brother was now screaming in agony.

Looking over Dean's wounds, he established they were of concern but not enough to cause this much pain and he looked to Bobby for help. Dean's arms continued to flail and smack into the ground, his attempts to claw at the dirt drew blood, so Bobby grabbed his arms and pinned them palms facing upwards, to the floor by his side.

Dean screamed again, through clenched teeth, so loud his throat burned, his fingers now digging into his own flesh, his face screwing up and his eyes squeezed shut releasing tears of a pain that neither he nor Sam had ever witnessed.

Sam stroked his brother's hair and face frantically, attempting to wipe away the sweat and the blood and the fear but the pain continued.

Swallowing hard he looked up panic stricken at the oldest hunter, his eyes pleading for answers and release from his brother's torment.

"Bobby what the hell's wrong with him?!"

Bobby shook his head unable to speak, moving his hands from Dean's arms and into his palms allowing Dean to claw at his hands rather than his own and trying not to grimace at the pain it caused him.

Sam turned back to his brother whose eyes were now wide with terror searching for Sam who was trying so hard to get him to focus on his voice.

"Dean, I'm here man, come on, look at me, I'm right here."

Sam's breathing was heavy and his voice weak as he tried to remain strong and reassuring but all the while fighting back his own fear and willing the tears in his eyes to disappear, for Dean, for his brother who needed him now more than ever.

Then their eyes locked and Sam's heart nearly broke as he saw the agony and pleading in his big brother's eyes.

"Sammy?"

His voice was so raw and weak and his face tensed and twitched as he fought with another wave of pain which soon forced out another gut wrenching scream. Sam again brushed back the short, sweat drenched strands of hair off his brother's forehead trying to soothe away the pain and the fear and remind Dean that he wasn't going anywhere. Gasping painfully, he again looked desperately to his younger brother for answers.

"Sam - what's... happening...?"

It was such an effort to speak, his throat was raw and every movement however slight, hurt like hell sending shooting pains through his chest and limbs.

Sam's heart pounded as the terror overwhelmed him and he fought to keep his voice light, although his reassurances were betrayed by the unshed tears and the odd break which he just couldn't stop.

"It's ok, man you're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine - just breathe – just breathe through it ok?"

Dean swallowed still gasping, the shock waves having ceased but his veins still burned with the remnants of heat and his muscles contracted and screamed with the impact of what his body had just been subjected to.

"Is it - d- dead?"

"Yeah you did man, you killed it." Sam smiled at his brother trying to convey victory and convince Dean that it was over and that everything was going to be so fucking fine from now on, but the tremors in his voice said other wise and now he couldn't stop the tears that fell at the sound of his brother so broken and afraid.

"Sam it hurts. It hurts so bad."

More tears escaped from the terrified pools of green and Dean screwed up his eyes once more, wishing he could just die or at least sleep or anything to make it go away because it hurt so much and he just couldn't take any more.

Sam nodded blinking rapidly, taking a swipe at his eyes and smearing his brother's blood across his cheek

"I know, man. I know. Just breathe and focus on me ok. I'm right here, I'm gonna take care of you, just breathe, you're ok. You're ok."

Dean's body began to shake and his voice which was now no more than a cracked whisper sent a shiver though Sam as he sensed his brother being pulled away from him.

"I'm scared Sam."

Sam raised his voice trying to sound stern and confident through his tears and failing miserably.

"I know man, I know but you're gonna be fine ok, just hang on, I'm here. I'm here."

Sam's voice cracked on his last words and crumbled into sobs shaking desperately and angrily wiping away the tears which just kept coming.

Gently stroking his brother's cheek with his thumb he continued to talk Dean through the pain, not caring how broken he sounded or that he could no longer hide his fear and the agony that he was losing Dean and that he couldn't stop it. Dean's body was wracked with tremors, and as his face drained of all colour as his eyes shot back and forth and rolled around in confusion and Sam was suddenly filled with terror.

"Dean? Stay with me man. Stay with me."

Sam once again ran his hands through Dean's hair, gently tapped at his cheek and shook his shoulders as he realised Dean was slowly, slipping away from him.

"Dean, don't you do this, stay with me ok, don't…please don't do this..."

A tear plopped on to his brother's face and Sam's stomach turned as Dean's breathing grew raspy and then his eyes rolled back into his head as the darkness ripped him away from Sam and enveloped him in its comforting oblivion.

Sam continued to shake his brother yelling at him through broken sobs, begging him to open his eyes, to look at him and not to leave him. He was unaware of Bobby calling to him gently trying to bring him back and shaking at his shoulders and Bobby had to yell with all his strength, which was difficult as his own eyes were now swimming with tears, his voice shaking due to the display he had just been forced to endure.

"_**Sam**_!"

The youngest of the Winchesters didn't look up but ceased his actions, his injured hand clutching at his brother's shirt his other resting lightly on his brother's face his shoulders shaking slightly as he forced back the sobs, trying to be strong for Dean and for the older hunter, whose hand firmly gripped his shoulder.

Bobby lowered his voice and Sam noticed his other hand was at the side of Dean's neck checking for a pulse.

"Sam."

Sam blinked and looked up at the older man his eyes searching for some hope.

"Sam. He's ok. He's just sleeping."

Sam nodded seeming to snap out of the haze that had clouded his mind allowing him to think the worst. His brother wasn't dead he was in shock. Shock from the pain that had been inflicted on him because he had had the courage to try and right a wrong, to fix his mistake and to give a young girl a second chance at life.

Grateful for the peace his brother now rested in and that the pain had stopped - for now - he mentally shook himself as he realised they had to move and get Dean to safety.

"He's in shock; we need to get him to a hospital."

Bobby was a little disturbed by the boy's sudden matter of fact attitude but said nothing until Sam started to lift his brother's shoulders off the floor.

"Woah, Sam. Let me carry him, you're hand's broken for cryin' out loud."

Sam simply glared at Bobby letting him know that he wasn't planning on debating the issue.

"I can manage."

Bobby realised he was on to a no winner and yielded, allowing Sam to lift his brother into his arms only assisting when Dean's head and arms fell back limply as Sam struggled to distribute the weight evenly. Bobby gently lifted the unconscious hunter's head and rested it against Sam's shoulder and they set off back to the road Bobby immediately pulling out his phone and calling the emergency services.

---------------------------

Rick Seiler was on his way into town when he saw the ambulance parked up next to the woods its sirens blazing. His stomach turned nauseatingly around about the same time his phone beeped at him. Pulling up on the road side he checked his phone which had only just decided to inform him that Sam Winchester had been desperately trying to contact him for his assistance with his dumb ass of an older brother. Listening to the message as he got out of his truck he felt as if he would be sick when it hit him why the ambulance was in fact waiting next to the area of woodland and heath which he was responsible for.

Questioning the paramedics he managed to discover that they were waiting for a young man who was being brought to them after being attacked by what they believed to be a wild animal. His enquiries were interrupted however when he heard voices and rustling and several of the paramedics rushed forward to assist the young man tearing through the woods carrying what appeared to be another man in his arms. They were both covered in blood.

Confusion and panic ensued as Sam was relieved of his charge and pushed out of the way as the paramedics strapped his brother to a gurney and attached an oxygen mask to his face.

Rick recognised the older hunter who he knew from long ago and approached him wide eyed and confused.

"Bobby Singer! What the hell are you doing here?"

Bobby turned stunned but his attention still focused on the two young men who were his main concern.

"Rick! About time you showed up. What the hell kept you?"

"I'm so sorry Bobby, my damn phone. All kinds of useless. What the hell happened?"

"Oh the usual. Stupid, dumb kids being stupid, dumb kids. You know how it goes."

Rick grunted and gestured towards Dean who was surrounded by a small group of paramedics.

"He gonna be ok?"

Bobby nodded confidently, although his eyes betrayed the fear and worry he truly felt.

"He'll be fine. He's a Winchester aint he?"

Sam unaware of the light hearted exchange that was occurring behind him watched frightened and alone as the men and women worked on his brother before lifting him into the waiting ambulance. Attempting to follow he was stopped by a tall, dread locked man in his thirties with a kind smile.

"Slow down there pal. You can't go in there."

Sam glared back fiercely.

"Oh I think you'll find that I can and I am."

The man held up his hands, attempting to calm the young man scowling at him.

"Ok, hold up one minute. You his friend?"

"I'm his _brother_ and I'm _not_ leaving him."

The two men eyed each other, Sam's fury bearing down on the older man who hesitated only briefly before deciding wisely that he really shouldn't argue with this guy. Stepping to one side he gestured for Sam to hop in, who then gave him a faint smile and nodded gratefully before joining his brother and taking his hand whispering:

"Just hang on, ok Dean? You're gonna be fine, you hear me?"

Sam paused briefly to take a breath and run a shaky hand across his face, before offering his brother a final promise.

"I'm here, man and I'm not leaving you."

------------------------------

Rick and Bobby followed the ambulance separately, Rick in his own truck while Bobby took the Impala. Guessing it would be Dean's main concern once he had regained consciousness he thought it wise to bring it to the hospital and leave his own vehicle behind with the intention of collecting it later.

Dean's wounds could have been a lot worse and although his doctor hadn't been concerned with him losing consciousness – it was a common reaction to shock and physical injury – Sam knew it wasn't at all common for his brother but kept his worries to himself fully aware that he couldn't explain why his brother had been screaming his lungs out only hours ago.

Dean remained asleep while his injuries were tended to. He slept through while his cuts were cleaned and the bad ones stitched and bandaged and Sam was grateful, although he knew Dean would probably be disappointed that he hadn't had chance to flirt with the nurses while they fussed around him.

Dean had finally woken up while a nurse was drawing some of his blood.

Sam had practically insisted that he be allowed to sit with Dean now that his wounds had been patched and he been waiting impatiently with Rick and Bobby in a room down the corridor and had had to be told several times to sit down, to calm down and to stop fretting.

When the three men had been informed that Dean was now comfortable and that they just had a few more tests to do Sam hadn't waited for the doctor to finish her sentence and had shoved past her and raced down the corridor to where his brother lay oblivious to the trouble he had caused.

The nurses had assured him that once they had finished the tests he could sit with him but Sam was anxious that Dean would wake up alone without his little brother there with him and he wasn't prepared for that to happen. The doctor had given in to the puppy eyed young man, whose pleas she just hadn't been able to resist and allowed him but only him, into his brother's room on the strict assumption that he behaved himself and didn't get in the way.

Just as the needle had been drawn out of Dean's still too pale skin his eyes fluttered and he inhaled deeply through his nose, which caused Sam to look up a little startled.

"Dean?"

His brother's eyes opened slowly and his head turned towards the familiar sound.

He gazed dopily at his brother a little confused and then reality seemed to drop heavily on to him as his eyes widened and he reached for Sam's hand his voice raw and weak.

"Sam?"

"Hey, easy there buddy." Sam allowed Dean to take his hand squeezing it reassuringly.

"Sam!" Dean's tone was desperate and Sam couldn't understand why there was fear in his brother's eyes so he retained eye contact, and kept his voice soft.

"Dude, what's up?"

Dean swallowed trying hard to make his voice work.

"_**Casey**_."

The crush on Sam's hand told him that his brother wouldn't be placated with lame and empty reassurances and needed an answer, now. In the panic and confusion Sam had forgotten about the young girl whose life hung in the balance and he cursed himself for not having the information which Dean needed so badly, to hand. He should have known that would be Dean's first concern, but Sam didn't want to know, because he was afraid that if the news was bad he would lose his brother forever and he had already come so close to that already and he really didn't think he could go through that again.

Sam nodded reluctantly his eyes stinging as he realised he had no choice but to find the answer to Dean's question. He briefly considered lying to him but knew for certain that Dean would be able to tell instantly, just by looking into his eyes. Giving his hand one last squeeze he got up and shot out of the door calling to the nurse that had just left them.

He hadn't expected her to know the answer, he'd expected her to go away and find out for him, preferably returning later, much later when Dean was asleep and hopefully Dean would then wake up and forget although deep down he knew that Dean would never forget. So he was surprised when the nurse nodded instantly knowing what Sam was referring to, apparently the young girl was well known throughout the hospital such was the rarity of her condition. Distractedly writing something on her clip board and not really giving him her full attention she gave him his answer before turning and walking away leaving Sam shaking, tears welling up in his eyes and feeling as if his legs would buckle right there in the corridor.

He wasn't sure how he made it back into the room and over to his brother's side and when he collapsed into the chair he knew Dean was staring at him wide eyed begging him to tell him what he wanted to hear and after a second Sam composed himself blinking away the tears and looking into his brother's green eyes which swam with fear and sorrow and hope that this time he had done something right, something good and he could now rest.

Sam took his hand swallowing hard, not breaking eye contact with his brother but struggling to find his voice and he hated himself because he knew that every second that passed was torture for Dean and he really didn't want to torture him, he didn't want to hurt him he just wanted to take away the pain and the guilt and make everything alright and as he felt a tear slide down the side of his face he finally managed to speak, nodding his head slightly as if trying to back up his voice which sounded weak and raspy even to his own ears.

"She woke up Dean. She woke up. You did it. You saved her."

Dean didn't react and simply watched his brother gradually break down as he lowered his head resting his chin on his arms which were folded on the bed next to Dean. Sam fought to rein in his emotions, for the sake of his brother but he was forced to give up the struggle when the relief overwhelmed him, his face crumbling as he pressed his head into his arms releasing the fear and the pain he had carried so long for his brother. Still clutching Dean's hand, which was buried beneath a tangle of arms and hair, he sobbed brokenly, ashamed that he was unable to stay strong any more and that it was Dean, who having gently pulled his hand out of Sam's grasp, had now sunk his fingers into his shaggy, brown mop trying to ease the tremors and soothe away the hurt and he didn't see the tears that fell from Dean's eyes, tears for his brother, for himself, and of relief and of gratitude to whatever higher power had given him a second chance, allowed him a chance at salvation.

Smiling sadly at hearing his brother's gentle sobs, Dean turned his head to gaze up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, allowing more tears to fall on to the sheets, to mingle with Sam's as he drifted into a peaceful and blissfully heavy sleep, his hand still resting in his little brother's thick, soft hair.

--------------------------------

While Dean slept Sam took the opportunity to fill in Rick and Bobby who were still waiting patiently down the corridor after the nurse had dropped in to tell them that their friend was sitting with his brother for a while and appeared to need some time alone. Sam told the two older men that they may as well head off considering Dean would probably sleep for a while. Bobby didn't think it a good idea for him to see the boy so soon anyway considering he was still fighting the urge to kick the young man's butt from here to Kansas. He was however reluctant to leave the youngest of the group alone as it was obvious how shaken and vulnerable he was feeling. Sam had assured him that he would be fine and thanked Bobby for his concern and his help.

Bobby gave Sam the keys to the Impala before the three men exchanged goodbyes the two older men giving Sam strict orders to call if he needed them. Sam again passed on his heartfelt thanks and headed off back down the corridor taking a slight detour to enquire further about Casey's condition, take a leak, grab a coffee and stretch his legs.

On his way back to his brother's room some time later he ran into one of the nurses who had just given a now awake and infuriatingly flirtatious Dean some shots. Sam thought he heard her mention rabies and tetanus among others but his head was still in a daze and he was concerned that he wasn't with his brother when he had awoken and he just wanted to go and sit with him and reassure himself that he really was ok. He was still pale with worry even though he had been reassured several times that Dean would be fine.

Forcing himself to focus on the friendly nurse who was chatting pleasantly to him and doing her best to make him feel at ease, he was aware he had probably been a huge pain in the ass the last few hours since they had admitted his brother.

"Ok honey, so as you know he has bruising and lacerations to his face, arms, chest and back. He's also suffering a minor concussion and his ribs are pretty beaten too. Nothing broken though."

She paused looking up at Sam.

"What the hell was that thing that got it's claws into your brother anyhow?"

Sam shook his head distractedly.

"Not sure - I um didn't see it."

The nurse eyed him curiously then shrugged.

"Uh -huh.Well, anyway, our main concern is the head injury. He should be fine but we're gonna keep him in overnight just to be safe."

Sam nodded his previous worry now turning to anger as he realised how close his brother had come to getting himself killed. Again.

"Head injury, huh? Yeah I wouldn't worry about that - not much in there to damage anyway."

The nurse smiled amused.

"Yeah sugar I get that. Boy doesn't use his head that much at all I reckon. Apart from to look pretty an all huh?"

"Yeah, oh yeah that." Sam shook his head apologetically understanding that the nurse was most likely referring to Dean's irrepressible flirting.

"Personally - and don't take this the wrong way sweetie - but I'll be glad when the two of you are outa here. You've got my girls all turned around they can't even do their jobs right."

"So he's gonna be ok then?" Sam asked for the eight time.

"Sweetheart that boy will be just fine. Like I said we're gonna keep him in overnight, just so we can keep an eye on him, but after that you can take him home."

Sam grinned suddenly feeling like a huge weight had been lifted, thanked the nurse and began to head off to his brother's room before turning, walking back up to the nurse and kissing her cheek warmly. The nurse watched him leave trying not to appear flustered, shaking her head.

"Dammit, but if I were a few years younger."

Sam felt almost euphoric as he entered Dean's room. His grin was erased however as he was just in time to see his brother give one of the nurses his Brave Soldier Smile and a cheeky wink as she left wafting herself seductively with a clip board and smiling over her shoulder at him as she headed for the door. Stopping short when she saw Sam, she appeared a little embarrassed and hurried out of the door, her head down.

Sam watched her amused and then turned to his brother his face displaying mock disgust and admonishment.

"Hey, how come you get so many nurses?"

Dean grinned smugly at his brother.

"What can I say – I'm adorable."

Sam pulled a face and sat down in the chair next to his brother's bed.

"So, how you feeling?"

Dean sat up wincing, "Head hurts. Chest hurts. Legs hurt. Back hurts. Arms hurt. But other than that, yeah, I'm good."

Sam nodded bighting his lower lip.

"Does your ass hurt?"

Dean frowned looking worried.

"No... actually that's the only part of me that...

"Good cos as soon as you get out of that bed it's getting kicked!"

Dean frowned again sinking back onto the bed, trying his best to look wounded so his little brother wouldn't yell at him.

Sam looked away his jaw tightening

"What?" Dean looked worried at what he recognised as anger on his little brother's face. Sam turned back to him glaring.

"What? I'll tell you _what,_ Dean." Sam's voice was hushed but furious. "You could've been killed back there you idiot! I was out of my mind and now you're sat here, like nothing happened, hitting on anything that moves!"

Dean looked at him having the grace to look contrite but said nothing.

"What the hell were you thinking Dean?"

Dean shrugged apologetically.

"I dunno - I guess I wasn't."

"No you never _do!"_

Sam sighed, laughing bitterly and shaking his head. He was trying his best to stay mad at Dean but he was finding it hard. Sam wasn't the only brother who could manipulate someone's feelings with a mere look – hell he had probably picked up that little trick off Dean in the first place.

"You know, I really, _really_ oughta beat your ass for that stunt you just pulled."

Dean glared at his brother his voice hard.

"Sam, I had to. I _had_ to fix this. Now you can be mad at me all you want, but you know I _had _to do this."

There was a long pause as the brother's eyed each other before Sam backed down, looking away and nodding reluctantly as Dean knew he would.

"Yeah, I know"

Another pause before Sam tuned back to his brother his finger raised.

"But if you ever do anything like that that again..."

"I know, you'll kick my ass. Got it." Dean smiled sheepishly and a moment passed before Sam changed his expression attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

"So Casey's doing fine. I made some enquiries and they say she should make a full recovery."

Dean nodded and smiled slightly, "That's great."

Sam smiled back at his brother suddenly filled with an enormous sense pride.

"Dean, you did it man, I mean you _saved_ her."

Dean shifted uncomfortably and then quickly changed the subject.

"Listen Sammy, you couldn't go grab some things for me could you? They're keeping me in until tomorrow and I could do with a change of clothes. The ones I have are a little torn up."

Sam winced knowingly.

"Yeah sure. The nurse told me already - about you getting outa here. Personally I think you should stay a few more days..."

Dean's face screwed up interrupting Sam.

"Sam, please. I mean yeah, I have a concussion - apparently - but as long as I have someone around to keep an eye on me... then I should be fine."

Sam nodded and their eyes locked meaningfully, until Sam blinked and looked away.

Dean stepped in again bringing a smirk of amusement from Sam.

"You know I meant you, right?"

Sam said nothing but chuckled slightly, shaking his head before saying.

"Right, I'll get going then." He stood, turned to leave then spun back round to face his brother. He stepped closer to Dean's bed, his hands fidgeting a little before making the decision to sit back down in the chair. Dean looked away, pulling a face, the discomfort obvious on his features but Sam ignored it.

"Listen, dude, I nearly lost you today."

"Oh come on, Sam, don't be such a drama queen, I kicked that little bitch's ass, no contest!"

Sam nodded sarcastically.

"Yeah I can see that Dean."

"Hey, I'm alive aren't I?"

"Dean I'm serious."

"Oh, I _know that_, you're _always_ serious."

Sam sighed and looked down at the sheets which he was fiddling with before looking back up to meet his brother's eyes.

"Just... don't ever do that to me again ok?"

Dean smiled crookedly and nodded, rolling his eyes knowing as well as Sam that the chances of him _never _doing anything like that again were pretty much slim to none but it was a comfort to them both to pretend. Even if they were fooling no one.

Sam retained eye contact with his brother only breaking it briefly as he looked down and grasped Dean's hand squeezing it slightly.

"I'll be back here as soon as I can ok?"

Dean nodded again, giving Sam a cheerful wink.

"Yeah, I know you will Sammy."

And then he released his brother's hand and reluctantly left him alone for what was for Sam far too long.

TBC


	13. Redemption or How to Deal With

**Sorry about the sloppiness and hideous errors in the last two chaps - they fried my head and I just couldn't do it anymore...This chapter also really thrashed my head in and eventually sent me to Original Character Hell and I thought I would never get out, so basically I did my best, re wrote it and then re wrote it again and again and again and again and again and then one more time. But it still may very well suck out loud. Sorry if it does cos I know it's been a long one and a long wait - you've been very patient. **

**Chapter 12 **

**Redemption **

**or **

**How to Deal with Touchy-Feely-Self-Help-Yoga-Crap **

It was eight minutes and five seconds ago since Sam had left him alone. Eight minutes and six seconds. It's nothing really. Nothing compared to the lifetime that it very nearly was. The forever that it could have been had his gun not jammed or had Sam not refused to give up on him or had he not called on Bobby to come and smack some sense into him. Eight minutes and twenty seconds. Not long but enough time to relive all the things he's done in the last few weeks. Enough time to consider the wasted time and how many people he's hurt and how many times he's pushed Sam away and he thinks how insane it is that Sam actually promised him he would not only be coming back but coming back soon. He wonders to himself how many chances he has left with his brother and how much it would take for him to give up on him completely. The thought terrifies him and he tries to assure himself that he won't let anything like this happen again but a part of him knows that he's lying to himself.

He wouldn't be Dean Winchester if he wasn't a little messed in the head and he doesn't think the job would come so naturally to him if he was stable and well adjusted like his little brother. Sam - well adjusted. That was a contradiction in itself because if Sam is well adjusted then how come he allows his big brother to drag him all over the country and turn his life into a major angst fest.

He thinks that maybe they're as screwed as each other and that that's the real reason that Sam sticks with him and then he banishes the thought from his mind because there's been enough misery for one day, one week, one month, one fucking year and right now he's crawling the walls because it's been nine minutes and his brain is thinking far too much. That and his legs are hurting him but at the same time they're twitchy and restless and he thinks that a walk might be what he needs. And a coffee. There is nothing in life that a walk, a coffee or a beer can't fix or at least temporarily put on hold until his mind could be bothered to deal with it so he pushes himself out of bed which hurts a bit and then his head swims and the room tilts so he stops and waits a while until it stops.

He sees a pair of forearm crutches leaning against the wall and thinks that yes he could do with some help walking and slips his arm into one and hobbles out of the room looking both ways hoping that he isn't about to be cornered by any of the nurses that for some unknown reason, seem to want to keep him chained to the bed.

His mind is elsewhere and he isn't really aware of where he's heading but it isn't long before he finds a drinks dispenser and sighing with relief he feels for the pockets which don't exist in the blue hospital pyjamas and realises stupidly he hasn't brought any change. He considers going back to his room to get some but then something at the corner of his vision makes him do a double take and then his throat goes dry and his stomach does that thing that it does when it really isn't happy about what's about to happen next.

---------------------------------------

Susan Brennan is forty six and feeling every bit her age as she stares at herself in the mirror. The sound of the water trickling down the plug hole is almost hypnotic as she considers how she ended up here. Her daughter is asleep again now but this time she knows that she'll wake up again soon now that she has been released from whatever held her prisoner. She wonders briefly if this is actually all a strange dream and that soon she'll open her eyes and her husband will be lying next to her but she knows deep down that it is no dream. Jack has gone home now to get them all a change of clothes because Susan wants to stay close to her daughter just in case and she feels guilty anyway because of what she had to admit to her. She's a little concerned over her daughter's obsession with the man who fired the weapon which put her in a hospital bed but the fear is tempered by Drew's equally fervent interest. They can't all be mad can they? Casey keeps asking to see him. She thinks he saved her. Saved her from the monster she keeps saying and Drew agrees although he was angry at first because that man had made Casey scream and cry so hard but he said that if you just calm down and think about it, it was obvious, the man had saved her life although he really wished he hadn't shot her.

Casey is going to need some physiotherapy but it doesn't matter because she is alive and awake, at least that's what Drew says but _she_ is still angry. Angry that her daughter had to go through all this and angry that she suffered and she wasn't there to hold her hand and tell her everything would be ok. She's tried to protect her and keep her safe all these years especially since her father died. Jack does his best and loves her so very much but she knows that Casey often wishes for her daddy because she can still remember him - it wasn't _that_ long ago.

Susan blinks at her reflection and turns off the tap and wonders what she will tell her daughter the next time she asks for the man who shot her. Susan doesn't want to see him ever again and she wants to pretend this never happened and think up a perfectly logical explanation for what happened but she knows deep within her that there isn't one because she's always known - since she was a child that some things cannot be explained.

She walks down the corridor and tries to remember if Drew wanted coffee or tea and then her world screeches to a stop as she sees him.

Their eyes lock and nothing happens for what seems like a very long time because she can't think of anything to say and apparently neither can he.

She is staring at him - at his injuries and her eyes widen horrified and fascinated and Dean can almost see the thought process working it's way across her features as he gapes equally wide eyed at the woman in front of him, the woman who's daughter he had hurt, his brain screaming at him to turn around and walk away because he doesn't want this to happen now. Not now.

Susan glances over him taking in the fresh bruises which mottle the left side of his face, the reds and purples around his right temple which spread right up to the hair line, the split lip, the cut over his left eyebrow and the gash on his cheek just below. She lowers her eyes to the bandage on his arm hiding what she suspects are more gashes. Gashes similar to the small one on her daughters face which looks like the claw mark from a wild and savage animal. She's curious and afraid but she finds her feet stepping closer to him and words involuntarily exiting her mouth denying her desire to turn and flee.

"What happened to you?"

Dean stares at her shrugging nervously and hopes he isn't in for another pasting. What with her, Bobby and the Wraith he figures he could really use a break from being smacked around. Just a couple of days would do - he isn't greedy.

"Wild animal got a hold of me. Must've really pissed it off," he smiles weakly then looks away guiltily.

The woman crosses her arms.

"Hm. Wild animal you say. Been a lot of that sort of thing recently wouldn't you say young man?"

Her voice is quiet and calm but he can hear the subdued anger and something else - possibly fear and he wants to tell her she isn't the only one.

Dean looks up but says nothing. The woman's eyes are working him and he can tell that she's smart and that something about the whole incident just doesn't add up with her. But he really, really doesn't want to do this but it doesn't look like she's intending on giving him a choice as she steps closer to him their faces inches apart and he feels his blood run ice cold.

"We need to have a little chat. Right now."

The woman's tone is again quiet and still but somehow manages to convey that she isn't in the mood for argument or discussion and his heart sinks. Being smacked around the face by angry mothers who's daughters he had shot he could just about handle - little chats with said angry mothers - not so much. Swallowing hard he decides miserably that he has little choice but to follow the woman down the corridor and face whatever she has in store for him.

Susan enters the room first, vacant but for a few chairs and a small table with empty coffee cups discarded on it's surface.

She turns around to face him and watches him carefully close the door behind him absentmindedly scratching at the bandage on his arm and she's surprised to think how vulnerable and young he looks in the hospital clothes, not at all like the whooping, cocky, gun toting red neck she had pegged him as.

Dean remembers her exactly as she was the first time they had met. She seems no different to him her appearance still smart, assured. Her clothes are casual but modern, her dark hair cut into a short bob, showing the odd strand of grey. Her features are soft but her eyes hard and full of sadness and they remind him of his mother's - the way she had looked at him, that day, back home when she had saved them, sorrowful but strong, determined. Her pale skin is devoid of any makeup and she stands nearly as tall as him holding herself confidently with a relatively youthful demeanour only betrayed by the slight lines around her eyes and mouth. The dark shadows under her eyes suggest to him she hasn't slept much in the last few days and her hair is ruffled probably from having worried hands run through it far too many times.

Susan thinks she should say something, as the young man apparently cannot and for a fleeting moment she feels a stab of pity.

"It's Dean, isn't it?"

The young man in front of her nods and then looks confused when she holds out her hand.

"I'm Susan. You put a bullet in my daughter."

Her tone sounds cold to her and matter of fact but she can't seem to control it and the young man again seems nervous and lacking in a response. He takes her hand, lightly grasping it before releasing it shortly after.

"She's awake now you know."

He nods, "I heard. That's - really good news."

She smiles back at him without humour.

"They don't know why."

Her legs feel weak so she sits and watches as he takes the one opposite his focus kept securely on the floor.

"You know I've been trying really, _really_ hard to forgive you."

She's annoyed when her voice breaks and shatters the illusion she's attempting to create to show this man - this boy that he hasn't broken her. But now she isn't sure if she cares anyway.

"We're supposed to forgive aren't we? They say hate doesn't help anybody." She looks away, feeling her eyes sting and tries to regain composure because she has questions. Questions she believes only he can answer and now they're here in this room together, although she is hating every minute of it, something within her needs to know.

"Something else happened didn't it?"

She turns back suddenly furious.

"_They _don't know - they know nothing, but _you -_ you know. Don't you?"

Dean had hoped it wouldn't come to this but deep down he knew that it would. He shakes his head and looks away hoping she might drop the subject and let him leave but she doesn't and she's not letting him leave until she knows the truth.

"I want to know. I_ need_ to know."

_No you really don't._

"Tell me. What _happened_?"

Her muscles tense as she watches him rise and walk over to the window and waits impatiently like a child who just can't wait for the ending to a bed time story. He sighs then and turns back to her.

"She was attacked. By an animal. But it's dead now and it can't hurt anyone else."

Her heart leaps ands she feels as if a light as suddenly been switched but her vision his blurry and unused to the light and she still can't see fully but she stands up as if the action may help her see.

"Dead?"

The young man nods and looks away again and she can see tears filling up in his eyes.

"When?"

He ignores her and she raises her voice the anger smothering any sympathy she may have for him.

"**_When?"_ **

Susan swallows hard, the hairs on her neck prickling, a shiver runs through her body sand she blinks away her own tears as she begins to feel her world shifting from the reality that she thought she knew.

"I asked you a question."

She notices the young man flinch and his words tumble out hurried and reluctantly as if he had been doing everything he could to prevent them from escaping.

"It was earlier, this afternoon. Around one thirty I guess."

Susan nods feeling a tear escaping and sliding down her skin. Her head feels light and fuzzy and her skin cold and she shivers suddenly understanding more than she should, more than she wanted, and then informs the young man in front of her what she correctly believes he already knows.

"The same time. My daughter woke up. Casey. She woke up. It was one thirty two."

And then she collapses into the seat beside her shaking, shaking so hard but trying to hold on to her self control, determined not to cry in front of this virtual stranger who walked uninvited into her life. This stranger who she had previously believed shot her daughter in an obscene act of recklessness while out hunting with his equally reckless and fool hardy friends.

But now it just doesn't seem that way. The man who was responsible for her daughters injuries is now stood beside her, marred with his own wounds after obviously having hunted down the creature that had initially attacked her daughter and now she is struggling to decide if that makes him a hero or not. She had been so angry and refused to believe what Drew had told her but somewhere inside her she knew that what had occurred couldn't be governed by the normal rules of what is right and wrong. Casey had been upset with her when she had admitted her initial reaction to the young man and had tried her best to convince her mom that it wasn't his fault and that he had been trying to save her. It had astonished her that her daughter had so much capacity for forgiveness for a man she didn't know although Casey seemed to believe she had some form of connection with him and just wouldn't let it go. But Drew had understood. Drew the logical down to earth young man who always saw the good in people and would believe in anything as long as he saw it with his own eyes.

Not like her. She had denied what her eyes had seen all these years and pushed it to the back of her head telling herself it wasn't real. But now she was forced to admit that maybe it was.

She sighs, running hands through her hair. She thinks to herself that there are so many pieces missing from this puzzle but not so many that she can't see a glimpse of the picture that she had previously read so wrongly. Hours earlier she had denied the facts and refused to believe that the young man who she had blamed might actually be someone who deserved her gratitude not her anger but now she's been handed another piece of the puzzle she can't deny what is staring her so obviously in the face. That somehow this young man had stirred her daughter from her unending sleep. She doesn't believe in coincidences and although she knows her husband will tell her otherwise she now feels that she has no choice but to accept that something beyond her understanding of the natural world had indeed occurred.

She eventually looks up to witness the young man, Dean re-take his seat in the chair opposite, his downcast eyes unable to see that for the first time her gaze is devoid of the cold that it previously held but he doesn't look up and Susan wonders if it's that he can't or won't and is saddened when she sees him flinch at her next statement.

"Well, I guess that I owe you one _hell_ of an apology."

"No."

He's shaking his head again and fidgeting with his hands picking at the skin on his thumbnail and Susan considers telling him to stop picking or else he'll make it bleed. Then she smiles to herself knowing she has no right to scold him although she would often scold Drew, but then he was just a boy and needed scolding from time to time especially as he didn't have a mother of his own and his father worked away so much. It's a little known secret but she longs for the day when he and her daughter are old enough commit to each other like they often swear that they will although she would often chide them that they're far too young to be thinking of such things, but in truth she can think of no other who she would rather have as a son and it always breaks her heart when every Mother's Day, Drew hands her the card he has written for her, awkward and hesitant as if he's not sure he has the right.

"No."

He says it again and he sounds so sad and more than a little lost so she tries her best to reassure him even though she still finds it hard.

"You saved her life."

"No."

He seems to be blinking a lot and his voice sounds raw and cracked and she wonders if he's got a sore throat and considers offering him one of the cough sweets she keeps in her purse but instead finds herself talking, rambling trying to fill the silence.

"I thought I was going mad you know. Deep down I knew something wasn't right. You've met Drew? He's so logical but he used the word 'invisible'. I mean you tell me how that's possible."

She watches Dean shaking his head again and is a little concerned at his colour which isn't so much pale as grey, she frowns but continues her monologue.

"I considered the possibility of drugs. But I know my daughter - she hates all that."

Then suddenly she laughs and the young man's head pops up.

"I really am going mad aren't I?"

He's looking right at her now his gaze sympathetic and they lock eyes briefly but he seems unable to give her an answer and looks away again. She stops to take a breath and then turns her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head still finding it hard to believe this isn't just a horrible dream from which she will soon awake. Her voice seems far away to her as if it is someone else who is speaking and she wonders if this is what madness feels like.

"I reminded him that he was concussed, you know, but he just told me what you're brother had said to him, back in the forest and then it hit me and all I could think about was that time when I was six."

Her voice is soft but she can't stop it breaking and she's surprised to see Dean look back up at her apparently startled but for some reason she feels able to continue to tell her darkest secret to this virtual stranger which fate had seen fit to drop unceremoniously into her life, but she doesn't want to look at him in case she's wrong and he thinks she really is a nut so she stares out of the window hoping that the world doesn't end.

"My parents told me I was dreaming. A nightmare. Not real. I was six - I wasn't stupid - I knew the difference."

She hears him speak but it's barely a whisper. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

She turns back to him shrugging.

"I screamed and whatever it was disappeared. My sister still has no idea that she almost died that night. I don't know what it was but I knew- I _knew_ it was going to kill her."

The young man nods at her; his eyes are sad but understanding and she's so relieved to hear his assurance that at least if she is mad then she isn't alone.

"Some nightmares are real."

Susan blinks, sighs and then looks back at the young man who has returned his eyes to the floor.

"You knew what you were doing didn't you? Why would you do that? It could've _killed_ you."

His voice is quiet but assured.

"Your daughter nearly died because of me. I had to fix it; I had to make it right."

Susan sighs again, her head feels a mess and everything is upside down so she pauses for a moment before taking a deep breath in preparation to speak the words that are so hard for her to admit but still her voice sounds cold and unconvincing to her.

"It wasn't your fault. You were trying to save her. It was an accident."

She isn't surprised when Dean doesn't respond. She probably wouldn't either, so she continues trying to keep her voice steady, which is hard considering the raging emotions that are pounding in her head.

"Drew was angry at first - who wouldn't be? But he told me later that you're brother had said you were trying to kill it. Much as I may want to, much as my instincts tell me to, I can't hold you responsible for what happened. I understand that now."

The young man leaps to his feet and seems angry causing her to frown.

"No. No you don't."

His voice his low and Susan thinks that yes he definitely is angry. He's staring out of the window his jaw is clenching and she thinks that he really should calm down before he bursts a blood vessel and that maybe he should go back to his hospital bed and have a lie down.

Susan stands to join him at his side feeling the anger and hatred evaporate and being replaced by compassion for this young man who she now realises isn't her enemy. She speaks again and this time tries harder to sound convincing knowing that if she doesn't believe her words then how can she expect him to.

"I understand this. I understand that you tried your best to stop that thing from hurting her. I understand if you hadn't been there she would have died. And I understand that you killing that thing had something - although I have no idea what - to do with my daughter waking up. My head knows you saved her and even if my heart isn't quite ready to accept it yet, _you_ should."

She's mildly satisfied with her choice of words and thinks for a second she may have got through to him but she is to be disappointed when he spins around still furious.

"I should have killed it the first time. It was a straight shot. I shouldn't have missed. I shouldn't have shot her, she shouldn't be in hospital and she shouldn't have to know about what happened to her."

Susan is confused now and frowns at the young man she knows as Dean as he takes a breath apparently trying to calm himself. She's a little puzzled as to why he doesn't seem to want to accept her forgiveness and wishes she knew what was going off in his head but then thinks that maybe she doesn't want to know.

He sits back down heavily and she follows once again taking her seat opposite watching him curiously.

He seems to be fighting back tears again, which for some reason wrenches at her that little bit more and she's saddened to hear his voice so thick and shaken but he seems determined to speak even though it is obvious to anyone with eyes how much it hurts.

"I've been a hunter all my life, since I was a kid," he laughs bitterly.

"This is gonna sound kinda big headed but my aim - it's pretty tight. I should've nailed it- no problem."

Once again she's confused and this time a little unnerved. She's not sure that she wants to know what he's about to tell her. He seems so certain that this new information will change her opinion of him and she doesn't have the strength for more anger, not now that she's finally come to an acceptance that the young man sat in front of her isn't to blame for the events that had shattered her world.

But the choice isn't hers to make and short of getting up and leaving the only thing she can do is to listen so she listens and the heart that belongs to the mother within her almost breaks.

"My mom died when I was really little and my brother was still a baby and my dad dedicated his life to finding the thing that killed her. He prepared us for the worst. Trained us to be soldiers as soon as we were big enough to hold a weapon, so that we'd be ready when the time came, but in the end...it killed him too."

She wonders sadly how he managed to say all that in one go and sighs swallowing the lump in her throat. She wants to reach out to him but knows she has no right so she just sits there watching as he blinks back the tears.

"You lost _both_ your parents?"

He nods, his eyes still averted, but she can see the pain and sorrow within them and her heart aches for this boy who has obviously been through hell and survived it yet still believes he doesn't deserve forgiveness. She's amazed at the fact that he continues; she cannot understand why he would do this. Why he would torture himself in order to convince her of his guilt.

He sniffs slightly and runs a hand across his face before speaking again.

"So, the thing is, my dad dies. For me. He sacrificed himself to save me and now I'm supposed to be ok with that."

Susan's feels her eyes fill with tears as she hears the young man's voice break and curses herself for so callously adding to his torment just a few days ago. She tries to imagine her own child being forced to grow up without her, to cope without the nurturing and unconditional love of a mother, as this young man so admirably has and it is enough to make her want to weep.

She feels an overwhelming urge to tell the young man how sorry she is for his loss and for adding to his agony but she doesn't - instead she remains silent and allows him to continue offering him the respect of her silence and her patience and he rewards her with such brutal honesty, breaking her heart that little bit more.

"Well, I guess I wasn't ok with it, I guess I didn't handle it too well and the night before I shot Casey," he laughs again, sniffing and shaking his head, "actually not just that night - I was up downing whisky, tequila, beer you name it. Anything just to block it out. Have you ever tried shooting a gun with a hangover, an overdose of caffeine and four hours sleep?"

Susan shakes her head, not in answer to his question - which she knows is hypothetical anyway - but in disbelief that this young man could be so harsh with himself.

Dean nods again.

"Yeah, well - not a good move."

He swipes at the tears before they have a chance to fall then wraps his arms round himself keeping his head down and Susan wonders to herself how someone who had suffered so much could still have any good left in them. Rising from her chair she crouches down in front of him tentatively placing a hand on his and feels her own eyes sting as he pulls it away. Finally looking at her he begs her brokenly:

"Please. Don't."

Ignoring his request, she reaches for him again and trying hard to speak without her voice cracking she simply whispers:

"Thank you, Dean."

He shakes his head furiously still managing to hold on to the unshed tears but she again chooses to ignore his protests and reaches up pulling him close and hopes he will accept her forgiveness and her thanks he clearly still believes he doesn't deserve as she conveys her gratitude once more hoping that this time it will reach it's target.

"Thank you, Dean - for bringing my daughter back."

She feels him loosely return the hold, hesitant, not too tight and she thinks that he feels so tense as if he's trying his hardest not to fall apart in her arms and she sighs to herself hoping that one day, maybe with someone else's arms around him, he will be able to let go.

-----------------------------

It is getting late when Sam returns and Dean is back in his bed watching TV, irritably flicking between channels trying to find something worthy of his attention until he hears the familiar voice.

"Hey, what's up?"

Dean drops the remote and turns to see Sam enter his room.

"Hey."

"Did I miss anything?" Sam sits down in the chair, dropping the bag he has brought for Dean on to the floor and makes himself comfortable which is difficult because he's so tall and the chair was obviously designed for pixies or something.

"No, but I think I'm gonna fall asleep again soon." Dean lies back wearily against the bed head yawning and struggles to keep his eyes open for a little longer.

Sam picks up the remote turning to the TV. He's trying to relax but notices his brother seems a little distracted and tense but he decides not to mention it.

"Yeah, well don't let me stop ya."

Dean glances at him before closing his eyes.

"You staying?"

Sam doesn't return the look but instead gapes at the television as a young, heavily tanned, bikini clad woman struts across a beach somewhere in California.

"Where else would I be? You think I trust you alone with all those nurses?"

Dean snorts but doesn't open his eyes.

"Whatever, dude. I know you got your eye on that cute little brown haired chick. Lucy, is that her name huh, Sammy, huh?"

Sam scowls but ignores the teasing and switches off the TV before turning to his brother who has opened his eyes again.

"Listen, man, do you think you'd be up for getting back on the road soon?"

"Tomorrow? Sure. Right after I finish up here."

Sam frowns puzzled.

"Finish what?"

Dean closes his eyes again hoping that it will get him out of any occurrences of nagging, whining or generally being yelled at before he explains himself.

"I um thought I'd call in on Casey. Say 'hi'."

Sam's eyebrows shoot up and Dean can almost hear them hitting the ceiling with a ping.

"_You what?"_

Dean keeps his eyes closed hoping that if he doesn't look at Sam then Sam will eventually shut up, go away or be vaporised by his own high pitched shrieking.

"Don't start Sam, ok? Come on... it's been a long day, I'm tired you're tired..."

"Don't give me that Dean. I mean why would you wanna do that. You know her parents will be there."

Dean remains silent and doesn't move.

"Dean...?"

"I'm tired Sam."

"Fine, we'll discuss this in the morning if you prefer."

"Whatever."

Then he turns away from Sam, effectively ending the conversation, grateful for the excuse which grants him escape from his brother's questions and constant wheedling and fretting and bitching and moaning which he knows he won't be able to evade forever but just not now. Not now.

-------------------------

The nurses had found Sam a bed to spend the night in considering he had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't going anywhere. He had been happy to sleep in the chair next to his brother but the nurse who he had chatted to earlier had taken pity on him and his ridiculously long and lanky frame which just didn't look right hunched up in that chair. Not that he had slept particularly well. The bizarre dreams that had disturbed his sleep all night had put paid to any chance of rest and he was still concerned about his brother's mental well being so when he enters his brother's room late that morning he's a little surprised to find his brother dressed and busy packing his things.

"Hey."

Dean looks up briefly shooting his brother a faint smile.

"Hey."

Sam rocks a little awkwardly on his heels and glances around the room not particularly looking forward to the exchange that is about to occur.

"So you ready to get out of here?"

"Sure, soon as I'm done. Shouldn't be too long - you can wait in the car if you like."

Sam walks over and helps his brother pack the remainder of his belongings and says firmly.

"Looks like your done. Lets go."

They lock eyes with each other, but Sam's glare is slightly more fierce than Dean's, but that could be because Dean still has a headache and his face hurts and he still feels too tired.

"Sam, I'm not done. Not yet.

Sam huffs, chews on his lip and looks away shaking his head slightly before turning back to his brother.

"Dean, why are you doing this to yourself?"

Dean's angry now and throws his bag on the floor and pierces Sam with his eyes. He's really not in the mood for a whine fest, pissy hissy fit or Sam style naggathon, he just wants to do what he needs to do and get the hell out of there.

"Because I made a promise."

"_What_?"

The youngest runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and Dean sighs and leans against the bed, wondering if there is another human being in the world who can say the word 'what' just quite like his brother.

"What promise Dean?"

Dean grimaces slightly and looks away.

"_Dean_?!"

Yeah that's another one. That word and his brother's voice alone is enough to make him want to pull out his own brain. And then eat it.

Heaving out a sigh he turns back to his younger sibling. He isn't sure why he ever believes he can get away with anything with Sam, but something always makes him try.

"Look I didn't tell you but last night because I knew you'd freak out, but I ran into Susan."

Sam's face screws up.

"_Who?"_

"The kid's mom. She's called Susan. Did I not mention that?"

"Er no Dean you didn't."

"No? Well she is and she's actually quite nice." Dean smiles pleasantly and it seems to infuriate Sam even more and as his face wrinkles up again it reminds Dean of one of those dogs that carry beer around their necks and get paid to rescue people or whatever and he tries really hard not to but he can't help himself and he reaches up and pats Sam on the head.

"Calm down there boy."

Sam smacks his hand away furious and scowls even more if that's possible and Dean thinks his face may as well just go ahead and implode.

There is a brief pause as Sam tries to calm himself and then huffs out a breath and looks back down at Dean still frowning making Dean feel like a teenager in front of the school principal.

"What happened?"

"We talked. Or rather she talked. Anyway she asked me if I would go see her."

Sam's face adopts that smug pretentious expression that tells Dean he is about to say something 'profound' and 'witty'.

"Really, Dean. So you're telling me that the woman who um let me think smacked the _shit _out of you after you um accidentally shot her _daughter_ now wants you to go for a nice little meet and greet huh?"

Dean bends down to retrieve his bag from where he had thrown it.

"Yeah that pretty much sums it up." He shrugs cheerfully and makes for the door

Sam catches his arm spinning him round and Dean glares at him because he hates it when Sam does that.

"Keep your panties on little brother, it's no big deal..."

"No big deal huh?"

Sam's arms are flying around like a very tall windmill - with hair - and he emphasises his words by stabbing a finger dangerously close to Dean's chest.

"No big deal that you're about to put yourself through another barrel of shit just to prove some dumb masochistic point..."

Sam doesn't get to finish his sentence because Dean knocks his hand away angrily and steps closer so that he's almost in his little brother's face and his voice is so frighteningly low that Sam almost backs away.

"What do you expect me to do, Sam? You expect me to walk away. Say screw you I've had a bad enough week as it is? Is that what you'd do huh, **_Sam?!"_ **

They stare each other down, two pares of eyes blazing ferociously before Sam takes in a deep breath trying to calm his rapidly rising temper knowing that one of them has to act like an adult at some point.

"I still don't get why you need to do this Dean."

Sam's voice is calmer now but Dean's is still laced with anger.

"Because, _Sam_ I made a promise and that may not mean anything to you but it does to me and besides _I_ need to do this. Hell, I can't do much else for the kid, but at least I can give her this."

Sam shakes his head sadly, still maintaining eye contact with his brother.

"Dean, you saved her life, isn't that enough?"

Dean glares at Sam for a few seconds longer before dropping his gaze and running a hand through his hair.

"Discussions over Sam. I'm doing this - end of." And then he glances back up at Sam as if making sure his point has been heard.

Sam shrugs defeated, sighing and shaking his head, but his voice still expresses the irritation and frustration he feels at his brother's insistence on once again placing himself in a painful and potentially shit hitting fan situation.

"Fine. Fine."

His voice is light but sarcastic and he brings his arms out to the side before dropping them back again resigning to the fact that his brother is a stubborn, bull-headed ass and there is little he can do about it.

"You wanna put yourself through that again, be my guest. You wanna get the shit kicked out of you one last time - fine go right ahead."

And then he sighs again his voice softening somewhat and he looks away briefly before returning his eyes to meet with his brother's.

"I just think you've been through enough, that's all."

Dean nods his own anger and frustration melting away, appreciating the concern in his brother's eyes.

"Sam, quit worrying about me, ok? Just, do me a favour, take my stuff and wait for me in the car. Trust me, it'll be fine."

His mouth twitches upwards a little at the corners as he shoves his bag into Sam's arms and pats his shoulder lightly.

"Besides, if it all goes to shit I got my little brother looking out for me right?"

Sam's a little taken aback and stares into his brother's eyes, feeling honoured and touched at the unexpected statement, every ounce of his anger dissipating. Nodding he blinks a little and then offers his brother a brief smile before saying resolutely:

"_Right_."

-------------------------------------

When Dean meets with Susan she smiles and hugs him and Dean thinks that it's a far cry away from when they first met. She seems surprised to see him as if she didn't really believe he would come but he'd been that shaken when she'd released him he would've agreed to anything just to get out of there. She chats pleasantly to him while leading him to her daughter's room, telling him that her husband has popped out and won't be there which is probably a good thing because he is still having a hard time getting his head around everything but she's sure he'll come round eventually. Dean listens intently to her small talk but he says nothing and soon they're entering the small but cheerfully lit room and Dean hesitates when he sees the girl he had shot, for the first time since that fateful morning, half sitting up in bed chatting groggily to the young teenager who he remembered as Drew.

He takes in the boy's appearance, his dark shaggy hair falling into his eyes, the Linkin Park t-shirt and scruffy, baggy jeans complete with obligatory chain hanging from the belt loops and thinks that he reminds him of someone, years earlier before things had gotten so screwed up and complicated.

Dean's stomach is in knots as Susan guides him into the room but she seems relaxed and happy and smiles at the youngsters as they look up.

Casey seems a little nervous when she recognises the young man who had held her hand while she screamed in fear and pain some days ago; more or less as soon a she had awoke she had asked for him and then her and Drew had discussed the events, trying in vain to make sense of them. Her mom had filled her in on a few details, mainly about the young man who had saved her life. Admitting she had been initially furious with him she had relayed to her daughter that she could find no reasonable explanation for what had happened, and while reluctant to admit to Casey that the monsters under her bed were in fact real and living and out there waiting for people like them she had been forced to concede that something beyond their comprehension had occurred.

Casey is a little strung out on pain killers and the craziness of the situation doesn't seem to mess with her head as much as it should besides, she considers herself an open minded young woman and knows what she saw even though the events are hazy and confused. Drew had confirmed that something that shouldn't be, had attacked them and spoke about the unusually tall man who had stayed with him while they made their way back to the road.

Drew always shares everything with her - he had decided to tell her everything, refusing to believe that Casey needed protecting and had respectfully but firmly rejected Susan's pleas to keep the truth from her at least until she was feeling stronger.

Dean glances at them briefly, noting Drew's blank expression before turning his gaze to something worthy of his attention somewhere near his feet as Susan approaches the couple leaving him near the door.

"Drew, honey, I need you to come with me for a while."

Drew looks at Dean and then Casey, his mouth is twitching, unimpressed.

"Sure, I'll be right out." he gestures for Susan to wait for him outside but she seems reluctant.

"Drew?"

"I said I'll be right out. You can wait for me out there."

The young man's tone is a little impudent and Susan gives him a look which appears to remind him of who is talking to and he winces before adding hurriedly:

"I mean please, ma'am, if that's ok."

And then he flashes her a charmer of a smile which Dean thinks would have put even him to shame and the woman shrugs, rolling her eyes and concedes leaving the room but not before calling over her shoulder:

"Two minutes young man!"

Drew stands to address Dean who is stood uncomfortably, feeling like a spare part wishing he could just disappear into the nearest hole.

"It's Dean, right?"

He nods finding it difficult to make eye contact.

"You wanna sit down?"

The boy gestures to a seat on the opposite side of Casey's bed to him, which Dean reluctantly accepts and the two of them stare at each other for a few moments as if preparing for a chess match, Dean on Casey's right, Drew on her left.

"Well dude I gotta tell ya - you really need to work on that aim."

"Actually, my aims fine, but thanks."

He meets the boy's eyes assertively refusing to waver and Drew responds by gesturing towards his girlfriend who is looking on not particularly amused.

"Yeah - I can see that."

Dean ignores the caustic remark and continues, his brain screaming at him to shut the hell up, but his mouth running away with itself, the bitterness and sarcasm not even coming close to subtlety.

"Thing is, you see I wasn't exactly on top of my game. The few nights before I put a bullet in your girl - I was pretty much out of my face on whisky and tequila."

Dean holds his head confidently his eyes not moving from their fixed position, awaiting the tirade of abuse he believes he fully deserves but it never really comes and instead Drew jerks his chin at Dean still frowning slightly.

"Dude, that's pretty irresponsible."

Dean nods his agreement, looks upwards as if considering his response and then returns the boys glare.

"Yeah, irresponsible - that about sums me up. But not only that, I wasted a good few days feeling sorry for myself too; when instead I could have been out there saving your girlfriend's life."

Drew's slight frown remains fixed on Dean apparently studying the fierce determination and the tense twitching of his jaw and Dean thinks he looks a little puzzled and wonders if he needs to spell it out for the boy what a complete screw up he really is but he doesn't get the chance because Drew steps in again.

"Dude, are you always this much of a dick or are you just putting on an act for my benefit?"

Dean smirks at the boy's sharp response and cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in mock contemplation, the sarcasm still evident in his voice.

"No. I'm more or less always this much of a dick."

Dean's feigned arrogance is betrayed by the tears in his eyes and the dark gaze which Drew has not failed to notice.

"You know man if you're trying to get me to deck you, you're pissing up the wrong tree."

The eyes remain locked and Drew leans forward a sarcastic grin on his face.

"I'm a _pacifist_."

Dean drops his gaze suddenly effectively losing the first round, his jaw involuntarily tightening as he tries to hold back the emotions that are screaming within him and there is a brief silence as he tries to think of something else to say but then his thoughts are interrupted by the angry young woman sitting up in her hospital bed.

"Alright, enough both of you or I'm gonna get out of this bed and kick some ass."

"Hey he started it. You know back when he shot you and all."

"He wasn't aiming for me you moron!"

"Yeah I got that. He was aiming for the _monster _only he was too drunk to be able to hit it. Dude you ever heard of AA? You know maybe you should give it a shot. Actually don't bother you'd _**probably miss!**_"

"Drew knock it off! The guy just lost his Dad for cryin' out loud."

The angry exchange ends abruptly and Dean can't help but flinch and wonders how much about him Susan had told her daughter.

Drew frowns again after glancing at his girlfriend and then turns back to Dean who is still studying his lap and there is a long pause and Dean can almost feel the young boy's glare piercing him and then he speaks his tone lower, laced with what Dean finds hard to believe is sympathy.

"Your Dad died huh?"

Dean nods slightly but doesn't look up.

"Ok, well that pretty much sucks. Dude, I didn't know, I'm sorry."

Dean is taken aback by the young man's genuine compassion and is unable to find words so he offers the boy a half hearted smile, briefly making eye contact, before returning his eyes downwards but Drew apparently isn't lost for words and continues relentlessly much to Dean's bemusement:

"Seriously though, dude, you really shouldn't use alcohol to deal with your problems. I mean that shit will totally screw up your liver. My Uncle Rod will tell ya. He drank for years and it took nearly dying to get him to finally stop. Seriously all he drinks now is coffee and lemonade - I'm tellin' you man it's _bad news_."

Dean looks up, surprised and a little amused at what appears to be a therapy session he's receiving from the most unlikely of sources and taken off guard he responds trying his best to sound genuine:

"Really, so um what would _you_ suggest?"

"Well for a start you could try talking to your brother. I mean it's obvious he thinks the sun shines outta your ass, so how about showing him some respect and actually letting him help you?"

Dean grins crookedly at the stern rebuke and laughs a little because keeping a straight face is suddenly strangely difficult but he feels a little guilty and uncomfortable at the inappropriateness of it and is relieved to hear Casey interrupt.

"Don't take any notice of him, man, he's always like this; dude thinks he's Oprah."

Drew turns angrily to Casey scowling, again reminding Dean of a certain younger sibling of his.

"I do not. All that woman does is pander to the whims of self serving so called celebrities, who's only desire it is to discuss their obscenely opulent lifestyles and have their massively inflated egos stroked and coddled beyond all recognition."

Dean turns to Casey pulling a face and is rewarded with a weary giggle but Drew doesn't seem to notice and sighs heavily running a hand through his hair and stifling a yawn. He looks back at Dean his eyes narrowing slightly his tone low and serious.

"So, you really waste that thing?"

Dean nods is own eyes dark.

"Looks like it almost wasted you. Kinda dumb don't you think?"

"It's what I do, it's my job."

The boy glares at him searching his eyes and Dean looks away uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"That's why Casey woke up isn't it? Because you killed that thing. What, was it was feeding off of her or somethin'?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Doesn't take a genius to work it out. I mean, don't get me wrong dude, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes... I mean it was like somethin' straight outta the X- files."

Dean shakes his head a little disturbed at the comparison but finds he can't help but agree.

"So this job. Does it pay well? Considering you almost got your ass handed to you and all."

Dean shakes his head again, smiling ruefully.

"No. Not really."

"Well that sucks out loud."

Dean nods his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah."

There's a brief but agonising silence and then Drew stands and looks down at Dean before holding out his hand a little tentatively.

"Thanks for saving my girl dude. You didn't have to but you did anyway - so thanks - I mean she's a pain in my ass but I'd be screwed without her right?"

He grins lopsidedly at Dean then cries out in pain as his pain in the ass girlfriend gives him a swift kick in the ass. He glares at her and she smiles sweetly back at him before he turns again to Dean rolling his eyes and Dean slowly gets to his feet accepting Drew's outstretched hand, gripping it firmly and two pairs of eyes lock for only a fleeting moment and then their hands fall away and it's over.

"Anyway I gotta go man, otherwise I'll have Casey's mom on my back too."

Dean gestures to the door, "What you're scared of her mom?" his tone is incredulous belying the fact that he completely empathises.

Drew nods grinning nervously, "I think so."

Dean nods back in understanding and by way of a goodbye and Drew turns to leave heading for the door but then stops readdressing the older man and he jerks his chin at Dean his expression sober.

"Later, man."

And then he's gone and there are two left alone in the room and Dean is suddenly shitting himself and finds his eyes will not lift upwards away from his lap.

"So..."

There's an awkward silence and Dean is willing his brain to think of something to say but it appears lost for any from of intelligent conversation.

"You really killed that thing?"

He nods.

"Drew's right isn't he? I mean that's why I woke right?"

More silence.

"I saw you. I mean I remember you being there, when you... when I got shot, but I saw you. While I was... asleep."

Dean shakes his head not understanding and still doesn't speak.

"I kept seeing you. You were sad and I kept trying to talk to you but you didn't hear me."

Dean feels his stomach lurch sickeningly and his eyes sting. He remembers the dreams and the visions he had and wonders is they were more than that. Wonders if somehow he had been connected to this girl via the link he had with the Wraith and he has no idea if it's possible but is afraid that maybe it is.

He looks up to see the young girl clenching and unclenching the fist on the end of the arm that isn't in a sling, looking downwards obviously uncomfortable and he considers what a very stupid idea it was coming here and if only he could get up and run away.

"I heard you. I heard you scream. You were screaming so loud. It was the last thing I remembered when I woke up."

Dean shudders a little but remains silent.

"Was it_ real_? Were you _screaming_? Did it hurt you?"

He blinks and looks away until he's sure the tears won't spill because he can't and won't allow her to see them.

"Please tell me."

He hesitates but her voice is so weak and pleading he feels he has little choice but to meet her eyes, his face tensing trying to retain the control he's been holding on to since meeting the girl's mother for the second time and when he replies his own voice is little more than a whisper.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me. Why? What did it do to you?"

"I'm not sure. I was connected to it and then suddenly I wasn't."

"It was horrible. I saw you. You went through that for me? Why? You don't even know me?"

"Like I told your boyfriend, it's my job."

"Yeah well your job sucks!"

"I hear you scream too sometimes. Maybe that's why. Some kind of cosmic karma..."

"What you think you deserved that? That it was payback because of what..."

"I messed up and when that happens there are consequences."

"Consequences huh?"

"You suffered a lot because of me - it's only right that I..."

"You are really full of shit anyone ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, my brother all the time."

"Yeah, well you should listen to him."

The rapid exchange of words ends as quickly as it started and both parties take a breath until it's Casey that finds her voice again and Dean just wishes that this will end very soon.

"I don't really remember you know. I mean, I remember Drew being attacked and I remember something grabbed me and I remember you. You were holding my hand. But I don't remember the pain. I don't remember much really after that."

"You went into shock."

"Drew said you carried me all the way back."

He listens to the silence unwilling to break it and just stares at his hands wishing that he'd listened to his brother for once and just got the hell out of there. He feels sick and he wants to run but there's no escape now and he has to stay and see this through and he just hopes that he can hold it together just a little while longer and he almost believes he can until he hears her sigh heavily and then she speaks.

"So, tell me Dean. What's the universally accepted way of thanking someone for saving your life?"

Dean shakes his head and feels his throat drying up, trying hard to stop the tears from returning and it seems to irritate the young girl who doesn't wait too long for him to answer her.

"Look I don't know what your problem is man, but from where I'm sitting you saved my ass - twice - which you know - kinda makes you my hero."

"I'm no hero. And I don't deserve your thanks."

Dean's eyes fill with tears again and he has to turn away once more blinking furiously, determined not to cry in front of this kid who appears to him to be stronger than he could ever be. Unfortunately as well as not being stupid she is also not blind and reaches out using two fingers on his chin to swivel his head back to face her.

"Hey, don't do that. I'm the one with the hole in my shoulder after all. Though I gotta tell y' the pain meds they got me on..."

She leans forward slightly and whispers conspiratorially, "They totally _rock!"_

Dean laughs looking downwards as a tear slides down his cheek.

"Dude, seriously you need to stop that."

He wipes the wetness away and tries his hardest to compose himself and bury the anger he is feeling. Anger at this totally fucked up situation where a young girl, a child who _he_ hurt sees fit to try and make him feel better about his stupidity and screw ups and mistakes.

"I'm not your hero Casey."

"I beg to differ."

"Another few inches to the left and we wouldn't be having this conversation cos you'd be dead."

"Didn't happen."

"I nearly _killed_ you."

"Didn't happen."

Dean laughs bitterly running a hand across his face and meets her gaze.

"You wanna know what I really am Casey? I'm a fraud. I steal and I lie and I con because that's all I know how to do. I don't have a girlfriend because a) I can't be trusted and b) I don't know how to trust and I don't have friends because I treat everyone around me like crap. You wanna pick a word for me - try _loser_."

He lets out a shaky sigh and looks down at his hands not really believing he just said all that out loud to a virtual stranger and he's a little unnerved when she takes his hand squeezing it weakly.

"I was thinking more along the lines of self-pitying-jerk, but whatever."

He snorts, smiling a little but still doesn't look up and wishes she would let go of his hand so that he could just get the hell out of there.

"Look, we could argue all day about this but I'm gonna fall asleep soon and you're kinda getting on my nerves so how about you let me thank you, then you say you're welcome and then we call it quits and you can go back to feelin' sorry for yourself and all."

His mouth twitches but he says nothing and she apparently takes this as permission and the next thing he knows she's leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek and he's so sure that any second now he's going to lose it.

"Thanks for saving my ass dude."

He shakes his head rapidly, unable to stop the tears and hold back the guilt which is still eating away at his soul and he just wishes that she would get mad at him and yell at him because that would be so much easier to take than her thanks.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His voice cracks but he's forced to look up when she interrupts his apparently unwelcome apology and almost laughs when he sees her with her good hand covering one ear and her eyes closed in denial of what she is hearing.

"LALALALA not listening!"

She opens one eye and he smiles a little although there are still tears in his eyes but he feels a little foolish and awkward and is grateful when once again she steps in for him, taking hold of his hand firmly, her tone light if a little stern.

"Ok listen up buddy. When someone thanks you for saving their life the universally accepted response is generally to smile and say _'you're welcome'_!"

Dean nods managing a half smile before forcing himself to look her in the eye once more and blinking away the remainder of his tears he finally finds his voice and whispers brokenly:

"You're welcome."

The girl in the hospital bed grins triumphantly but sleepily as she leans carefully back into her pillow and closes her eyes. Stifling a yawn she looks back at Dean groggily giving him one more instruction before allowing fatigue to envelop her.

"Do me a favour ok, Dean? Quit being so hard on yourself. And what Mr Winfrey out there told you - I'm guessing it's a little too much of the touchy-feely-self-help-yoga-crap type shit for you but maybe it wouldn't hurt to consider it huh?"

Dean smiles to himself and gives a slight nod observing the teenager who's eyes are closing again and as he watches her peaceful descent into slumber, he prays to whoever he hopes is watching over her that she will be free from nightmares and not be plagued with images of death and darkness now that, like him many years ago, her innocence has been tarnished. Leaning over her, he carefully brushes the hair away from her face and gently kissed her forehead whispering softly:

"Sweet dreams, Casey."

And then he walks away, leaving her and her family and the ward and the hospital behind walking purposefully across the car park, staring straight ahead once again reigning in the tempestuous emotions, over to his car, his sanctuary and place of safety, where he knows his little brother will be there, waiting for him.

------------

They are safely back in their hotel room and Sam is busying himself with tidying his belongings and sorting the clothes in his bag while Dean sits at the window gazing sadly out onto the street below, his eyes glassy, searching for something that Sam knows not. Recognising the timing as being right he sits down opposite his brother and gives him a moment to process his presence before speaking as softly as he can trying his best not to shake his brother's fragile defences.

"You alright, man?"

There's no response and Sam wonders if Dean even heard him so sighing quietly he reaches out a hand touching his brother's chin and turns his head towards him.

"Hey, you in there?"

Dean just stares at him his eyes bright and wide not saying a word and Sam smiles at him in a way that he hopes is sympathetic and tries to keep his voice soft.

"Talk to me buddy, what happened."

Dean looks down at the table his face tightening, trying to hold on, hold back the flood which he knows will crash down the already frail walls that are of little help to him now.

"They thanked me, Sam. All of 'em. Susan, Casey and her boyfriend - they all thanked me."

Sam nods understanding completely but seeing his brother so vulnerable is like something he can't describe but he doesn't move and he doesn't speak he just waits. Waits for his brother, waits until he is ready and he doesn't have to wait long

"She thinks I'm her hero. I shoot a little girl in the shoulder – almost kill her, probably scarred her for life...and she thanks me. How messed up is that Sam? It's not right. It's not..."

His voice breaks off and he's unable to say any more as the walls give up their futile resistance and Sam catches a glimpse of his brother's face crumbling just before his hands shoot up to hide it from view, to hide the pain and the guilt and the tears which still bring him shame making him want to crawl into a hole so that no one especially his brother will have to witness him fall.

But Sam catches him.

Sam is at his side in an instant, stooping to wrap his arms around his brother's shoulders and provide something solid for Dean to hold onto while the flood threatens to sweep him away and drown him and Dean reaches for Sam without hesitation, gripping his little brother's arms tightly, his trust and faith in Sam's ability to keep him grounded unwavering.

And Sam holds on and although his height and Dean's seated position makes his back hurt he doesn't really care because it's a small price to pay for finally being able to comfort his brother; a small price to pay for being able to be something to hold on to, to be a source of strength and trust now that Dean is finally able to let him. Dean feels safe now because there is no one else here except his brother and he knows that his brother won't judge him or make him feel small and this feeling of total safety is enough for him now to let go.

------------------------------

It's a long time before Dean's tears dry up and it's him that releases his grip first pulling away and running a weary hand across his tear streaked face. He sighs heavily and Sam pulls his chair close, sitting down, but unwilling to let go just yet keeping a strong hand firmly on Dean's shoulder waiting for him to regain composure.

"Seems I'm a real wuss these days huh? You sick of all this, yet Sam?"

Sam just smiles at his brother shaking his head admonishingly.

"Dean don't be an ass. You've been through hell man; give yourself a break for once."

Dean looks up at him and Sam recognises the light that has returned to his brother's eyes and grinning crookedly back at Dean he feels for the first time in far too long something close to joy inside him.

"You know Dean, sounds to me like Susan, and Casey and even Drew - well sounds like they forgave you..." Dean looks away but Sam continues.

"Or else they realised that there was nothing to forgive."

Dean turns a half hearted glare onto his little brother.

"What's your point?"

"My point?" Sam looks away laughing slightly. "My point, Dean is that maybe you should try forgiving _yourself_."

Fixing his eyes on Sam, Dean says nothing but smiles slightly and a little sadly before looking back at his hands. And then suddenly he looks back up at his brother his expression morose and hard.

"You know what I think?"

Any other human being who didn't know Dean and his myriad of facial expressions may have been unsettled by the threatening and disturbingly menacing tone to his voice but Sam isn't one of these people and immediately recognises the devilish glint in his brother's green eyes and grins in anticipation.

"What?"

"I think we should go get ourselves a couple of cheeseburgers."

Dean's dead pan expression brings a genuine laugh from his little brother, his eyes crinkling and his whole face lighting up, warming Dean's battered soul and he thinks that it has been far too long since he has seen his brother laugh like that and he feels a little of the emptiness disappear and it seems to be replaced by something that he recalls as hope.

TBC

_sorry - I know some of you may not give a flying f ... about Susan and her family but this chapter was for Dean anyway, because he really needed some closure and considering the fact that I was so mean to him, I thought it was the least I could do even if it meant walking through Original Character Hell. I have decided that I won't be doing that again. Ahhh anyway big thanks if you made it until the end - I appreciate it - you have true stamina. Final chapter coming very soon - originally entitled as 'Epilogue'_


	14. Epilogue

**Ok firstly huge massive thanks for the reviews. I was a little worried about that last chap but your comments made me happy. Secondly - really, really sorry about the long wait but stuff came up and I just couldn't get it done but it's here now and finished, complete, over ... hope you enjoy. **

**Epilogue **

It's late afternoon by the time the brothers have showered changed and made their way out of the hotel to the only decent diner in the small town and Sam isn't too surprised to see two middle aged, red neck hunters sat enjoying a couple of beers while exchanging stories and anecdotes from years gone by of hunting, the adventures of two particularly infuriating young boys and a certain John Winchester. Dean isn't so much surprised as horrified. He had forgotten that sooner or later he would have to face Bobby again and somehow was hoping that he could reach old age without having to deal with the aftermath of what had transpired between them.

Unfortunately it isn't meant to be and Dean stiffens at the sight of the two men wishing that he hadn't run into Bobby so soon and that if he really did have to face him then can't it just wait a few more days because he doesn't feel like he is ready to deal with it yet. If he's being honest however he doesn't think that he will ever be ready and he wonders if Bobby is going to lay into him for his reckless actions and thinks bitterly to himself that he would prefer that to the alternative. The alternative being an uncomfortable and embarrassed exchange whereby they both try to pretend that Dean's breakdown and attempted suicide had never happened. But he has the feeling that Bobby won't want to pretend and will force some kind of acknowledgement from Dean and that is something he just can't bear the thought of.

He thinks to himself that he would take anything over that; anything including being yelled at, smacked around the head or the ass kicking of his life just as long as Bobby doesn't mention what happened. Knowing Bobby he'll probably give him all three and _then_ be made to face what happened between them and he has no idea how the two of them will get past this but he really doesn't want to find out not now and preferably not ever and he briefly considers turning and getting out of there before the two men notice their arrival.

Sam seems oblivious to his concerns - or else he is ignoring them and Dean thinks the latter is more likely, especially as the slight movement he makes to turn and flee is counteracted by his brother grasping his shoulder firmly and pushing Dean forward cheerfully, his face lighting up.

"Hey guys, great minds..." he greets a huge grin on his face but Dean's doesn't mirror his expression in the slightest and he hovers uncomfortably around the table smiling politely at Rick and avoiding Bobby's gaze altogether.

Rick looks up at the oldest Winchester and nods his head towards him.

"Boy - you look like hell."

Dean offers him a lopsided grin and shrugs still hovering until Bobby stands and pulls up another couple of chairs for them both, winks discreetly at Dean and gestures for them both to join them at the table, squeezing Dean's shoulder encouragingly as the younger man reluctantly takes his seat. Dean thinks to himself that Bobby doesn't seem mad at him at all which means he can stop worrying about getting his ass kicked which is nice to know but he can't help worry about what will happen instead. Still apparently oblivious Sam joins him at his side his face still bearing the grin, slightly nervous and trying to think of something to say knowing full well that his brother won't be the one to initiate conversation.

In the end it's Bobby who breaks the silence

"Boys can I _not_ recommend the chilli burgers - Rick had two last night and now he seems to be having a few shall we say - gastric issues."

The two older men burst into laughter, clearly highly amused with themselves and Sam grins looking downwards, shaking his head in mock disgust while Dean manages a glimmer of a smile, grateful to Bobby for immediately breaking the ice and attempting to ease his awkwardness and he thinks to himself that maybe it will be ok and that Bobby feels as embarrassed and awkward about it as him and that they can pretend that what happened back in that motel room never occurred and just get things back to normal again.

The joviality continues as the hours tick by, the afternoon turning to evening as games of pool between Sam and Bobby and then Rick and Dean are played, and then returning to their seats for more light hearted banter the cruder, older men showing their true colours much to Sam's delight and amusement. Dean however remains subdued, occasionally chuckling but rarely joining the lively conversation although he tries but he just feels so tired and afraid to use his voice in case he says something that Bobby will feel the need to respond to and they have to make eye contact and then the pretence will be shattered. He considers making his excuses and leaving but every time he tries to speak someone else - usually Sam - steps in and cuts him off, making escape impossible.

More beers are consumed although the older men seem to be getting through more than the youngsters of the group and Dean in particular seems to be drinking very little, although strictly speaking he shouldn't drink anyway as he probably still has a concussion but it never did him any harm before but for some reason the taste of beer isn't doing much for him tonight.

He's a little disheartened and not to mention nervous when Rick stands up announcing it's time for him to leave, muttering something about not being able to keep up with the youth of today and he feels a stab of panic because now there's only three of them which makes it even harder to blend into the background and avoid conversation and eye contact from people who he has no place making eye contact or conversation with. Rick doesn't seem to notice or care and says his goodbyes warmly, instructing the two youngest hunters to call by his place tomorrow for their pay, before leaving the diner his feet only slightly unsteady on the floor.

The three men watch him leave and the silence lasts only moments and then Dean feels his heart miss a beat as Sam announces he needs to empty his bladder causing Dean to shoot him an icy glare which Sam either doesn't see or pretends that he hasn't, ruffling his brother's hair affectionately and briefly grasping his shoulder as he leaves the table slightly inebriated, leaving Dean both panic stricken and furious - emotions he still manages to keep well hidden.

The total lack of sound between the two remaining hunters is deafening and Dean thinks his head might explode as he stares intently at something incredibly fascinating on the table, his hands fidgeting in front of him, unable to speak or look at Bobby and he silently berates himself for actually believing he could avoid this moment indefinitely and then Bobby sighs a little sadly shattering the quiet, his voice admonishing but unbearably soft.

"Dean..."

"Don't."

"Don't _what,_ son?"

Dean blinks feeling his chest tighten and his eyes sting, but says nothing shaking his head and he thinks he may well just throw up when Bobby reaches across and places a hand on his forearm.

"You can drop the act now, boy."

Dean maintains his silence.

"Ok at a guess I'd say you're embarrassed right now, ashamed even. Am I close?"

He can't bring himself to answer the older man but it doesn't seem to matter because Bobby correctly takes his lack of response as an affirmative.

"Yeah, well don't be. You've got _nothing_ to be ashamed of, Dean. Apart from maybe that crazy assed stunt you pulled yesterday for which I could happily kick your butt by the way."

Dean blinks again and looks up slightly, fixing his gaze just below the older man's chin but can't quite reach his eyes and then Bobby has to witness the tear trickle down his cheek as an agonisingly long moment passes before Dean angrily wipes it away before looking down again sniffing.

"I'm sorry."

His voice is raw and shaky and Dean hopes Bobby knows he isn't apologising for his most recent actions for which he will never apologise for no matter how much shit he has to take but the shame he feels over his breakdown and revealing so much to the older hunter is still smothering him but his remorse only seems to make the older hunter angry and he is forced to flinch a little when he next hears him speak.

"I don't wanna hear that Dean. Not now and not ever so you'd better get that into that stubborn head of yours. Nothing's changed here one bit and as far as I'm concerned, you're still the same pain in the ass, smart mouthed, young upstart you've always been. _Do_ _you hear me, boy_?"

Dean's jaw twitches and his chin quivers slightly before he nods tearfully still unable to meet Bobby's gaze and finding the older man's stern words too difficult to hear and his mind is greeted with a brief flashback of Bobby yelling at him and pinning him against a wall while he struggled fruitlessly, feeling so weakened and pathetic and he wishes that Bobby will stop talking now and that Sam will hurry back because it doesn't take this long to take a leak but he isn't shutting up, not yet.

"I'll tell you somethin' else for nothin' too."

Bobby stabs a finger at him, his voice retaining it's harshness.

"If I was lucky enough to have _either_ of you boys as a son - I'd be the proudest man on the whole damn planet. And you better tell Sam I said that too."

A moment passes as Dean allows the words to sink in and his hands involuntarily clench as he tries in vain to hold back the tears, his face tightening, swallowing back the sob that is threatening to escape but he won't cry in front of Bobby again and he wonders if it counts as crying if tears are streaming silently down your face just as long as you don't make a sound and he decides that no it definitely does not count.

He takes in a breath which hitches painfully, swallowing hard once more and then he hurriedly scrubs away the wetness on his face with the palm of his hand, and waits for the tremors to subside but nearly loses it again when Bobby leans across and places a rough hand firmly on his right cheek gripping it hard and giving him a slight shake and then he speaks and his voice is still stern although not as harsh:

"You did good, son. And I _am_ proud of you. You hearing me?"

Deans nods as much as he can with his face locked in Bobby's vice like grip, still fighting back tears and then somehow, he finally manages to look up into Bobby's eyes and offers the older hunter a faint smile and Bobby returns it and taps his cheek once before dropping his hand back to the table.

Bobby wants to get up and take the boy into his arms once more but this isn't the time or the place and he knows that's the last thing Dean wants even if it is what he needs but it pisses him off all the same. He looks into the young man's eyes and they're filled with sorrow but he sees the gratitude there too as if he owes Bobby a huge dept of thanks for simply telling him the truth about himself and he has to swallow his anger because he knows that if he were to yell at Dean right now it would be too much for the kid to take and he really doesn't want to be the cause of him breaking down again. The anger continues to bubble just below the surface and he knows that he will have to find someone else to hurl it at because the man who deserves it right now is John fucking Winchester and he wishes he could shake the man who turned his son into this lost, messed up kid and he thinks that he'd like to ask him none too gently just how many times he'd told his eldest how proud of him he was and how hard he'd tried to make him believe that and he wonders sadly if that infuriating son of a bitch had _ever_ made an effort to let either of his son's know just how damn amazing they were.

Dean drops his gaze first and Bobby realises he still has a hold of his arm and giving it one last squeeze he releases it just in time to see Sam re- take his seat. Dean looks up briefly, avoiding prolonged eye contact aware of the traces of tears in his eyes but at least his voice is almost back to normal. Almost.

"Dude, what took you so long?"

Sam looks at Bobby, his eyes wide then turns back to Dean mumbling:

"Um... there was a... queue."

"A queue huh? Sam the place is practically empty."

"Yeah I guess they're all on the can huh?"

Dean rolls his eyes and looks sideways at his brother who once again pretends not to notice and then Bobby grins at the youngest hunter before rising from his seat.

"How about I get us another round of beers?"

The brother's nod briefly, Sam looking up at Bobby and smiling gratefully before turning to his brother, his eyes narrowed slightly and he says seriously his voice low but soft.

"You ok, man?"

Dean nods offering Sam a crooked grin and replies genuinely:

"Yeah. I'm good, Sammy."

-----------

The three men chat away the rest of the evening and even Deans join the conversation a little and then he stifles a yawn once too often and Sam decides it's time he got his brother back to the hotel and into bed.

"Looks like someone's up past their bed time."

Dean of course protests, claiming he's fine, not tired at all and has hours left in him but then Bobby steps in and Sam flashes him a grateful smile.

"Actually, I should be hitting the hay myself. I've got a long drive tomorrow."

"Yeah we should get back on the road too. Come on, Dean, you look worn out man."

"Nah, I'm good."

Bobby stands up and glares at the oldest Winchester.

"Sam's right son you should be in bed. Don't make me make it an order now."

"Alright, alright."

"I'll catch up with you boys in the morning before I head off."

Bobby grasps each of their shoulders before draining the last dregs of his beer and then leaves them alone, Dean playing with his beer bottle, picking at the label and Sam watching suspiciously.

"Dude, drink up. We're going, it's late."

Sam is more than a little surprised when Dean doesn't argue and obeys the order without hesitation, finishing his beer and following Sam out on to the quiet street and they take the short walk back to their hotel.

Dean collapses onto his bed feeling drained and exhausted; he leans against the headboard while his brother potters around packing their belongings. Without thinking he lets out a heavy sigh and regrets it when Sam notices, stops what he's doing and sits down on his own bed facing Dean.

"You sure you're ok, man?"

Dean nods and then looks across at Sam and he can't hide the darkness in his eyes and he's too tired to try or care anyway because it doesn't really matter considering he can never keep much from his little brother. Sam waits. Sam always waits. Never rushes him. Never judges him. Just waits.

Dean looks down at his hands and tries his hardest to find his voice so his brother won't have to wait much longer.

"Sam..."

He pauses for a moment and scrubs a hand across his face wincing at the soreness as his hand inadvertently catches the cuts and the bruises and he finds himself sighing again.

"I've been a major pain in your ass lately haven't I?"

"Dean, you're always a major pain in my ass."

He glances up at Sam to see his earnest expression and he tries his best to glare and let his brother know how much he doesn't appreciate his warped and inappropriate sense of humour.

"You're a real funny guy you know that Samantha?"

Sam laughs in that high pitched, smug girly way he does when he's trying to piss Dean off. "Yeah, I think so."

"You know what, you were totally in for a Kodak moment right now, but just for that you can forget it."

Annoyed, Dean reaches for the TV remote on the chest of draws near his bed.

"Dean, I'm sorry man..."

Sam's apology is wasted on Dean because the little shit is till grinning and shaking his head, obviously amused with himself. Dean ignores him and makes several attempts to switch on the TV but nothing happens and he thinks what the hell is the point of a remote that doesn't work and irritably throws it at Sam who catches it one handed which only serves to annoy him even more so he folds his arms and tries not to scowl.

He glances up briefly to see Sam put down the remote and then walk over to his bed. He sits down at the bottom facing him and he looks up again giving him his most pissed off glare but has a feeling he didn't really pull it off all that well and Sam just waits saying nothing.

Sam sits watching Dean and he shakes his head a little sadly and when he speaks his voice is weak and thick with unshed tears and Sam's conscience twinges with guilt for making fun of his brother.

"I was a complete asshole Sam. I put you through hell and for that - I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Dean's voice breaks on his final apology and Sam winces shifting a little closer to him and places his good hand on his brother's shoulder squeezing slightly.

"Dean..."

"I'm not done, Sam."

Sam sighs and looks away feeling saddened that Dean feels the need to punish himself even more and wishes that they could skip all this because his brother's been through enough, but he says nothing and allows Dean to continue.

"I said some things to you, things I can't take back but I need you to know... I didn't mean _any_ of it."

"Dean, you think I don't know that?"

"Dammit Sam would you just listen for a minute."

Dean huffs and scrubs his hand through his cropped hair.

"When I gave you a hard time about Dad. I shouldn't have done that. I knew you were beating yourself up over it and I took advantage of it. I used it to get you off my back and I want you to know I've pretty much felt like crap about it ever since."

Sam shrugs remembering the argument back there on the road when he'd tried to get Dean to deal with his grief but Dean had turned it around on Sam accusing him of things he already felt terrible about.

"Yeah, well you were right, man. It _was_ too little too late."

"No Sam, you need to hear this. Dad knew you didn't hate him. And he was just as much to blame for all those head butting contests. He knew Sam, you need to remember that."

Sam looks away, removes his hand from Dean's shoulder and feels the tears welling in his eyes. He remembers Dean's tirade on him on the road that day and what it had done to him and how it had reminded him of how much he hated himself over the things he'd said to his dad. He'd believed Dean felt the same although a part of him had kept telling himself that Dean was just angry and struggling with his grief but his brother's words had been devastating all the same.

Now Dean had just told him it was all a front to get him to quit pestering him and while the guilt he feels is raw as ever he feels a little of the weight lifted now realising his brother doesn't hate him like he sometimes hates himself. He feels his brother's hand on his arm and then hears him speak so very softly and he swallows hard hoping that the two of them can hold it together.

"I'm sorry man, I know that I hurt you... a lot, but you have to believe me..."

Sam can't bear the sound of his brother's cracked and broken voice anymore and turns back to him cutting him off before he has chance to finish, glaring at him furiously.

"Ok enough. You don't have to apologise to me anymore, Dean, I don't wanna hear it ok?"

He can't help the crack in his voice as all attempts to remain stern fail miserably and Dean looks up at him briefly his eyes bright and Sam holds his gaze shrugging a little offering Dean a half hearted smile.

"Besides, putting up with your crap kind of comes with the job, man."

Dean returns the smile and blinks rapidly looking away before turning back to his brother looking him square in the eyes. He nods then speaks his voice still cracked and not much louder than a whisper.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Sammy."

Sam grins crookedly giving himself a moment to steady his own voice.

"I'd never give up on you dude. Not until you were six foot in the ground and probably not even then."

Dean nods gratefully before looking down at his hands and Sam's surprised that he still hasn't finished and that there's more his brother needs to say and wonders how long Dean expects him to last before he loses it and then gets berated for being a girl.

"You know when we were kids - well teenagers; I remember when I used to patch you up after a hunt."

He sniffs shaking his head.

"You'd whinge like a little girl but when it was over you always used to give me this look - I'll never forget it - like you trusted me - like - I dunno like you were proud. Y' know...to be my brother? "

Sam blinks rapidly feeling his chest tighten but fights to keep his eyes on his brother and sees him take an annoyed swipe at his eyes.

"I'd have given anything to have you look at me like that again... but I guess I haven't really given you reason to lately, huh?" he smiles bitterly and looks away shaking his head. Sam takes a breath wanting to cut his brother of because he doesn't know if he can take any more but he doesn't and then he's relieved when he sees it's nearly over and Dean turns back to him finding the courage to meet his eyes once more.

"I know I've let you down, Sammy and ... I've let dad down and I can't make it up to him but...I'll make it up to you. I swear. "

Dean's eyes drop back to his lap and Sam can see he's fighting to hold on to what control he has left as he whispers his final promise.

"One day I'll make you proud to be my brother again."

Sam winces and blinks away his tears knowing he has to stay strong for his brother and determined not to cry he laughs a little instead but it sounds wrong to his ears anyway and dammit his voice is still shaking.

"You're an idiot you know that?"

Dean doesn't look up and Sam feels a little irritated which is a good thing because that means he can stop the tears from falling.

"Dean, look at me." Sam's voice is a little stern but Dean doesn't respond so he grabs his shoulder again and shakes him a little.

"Hey dufus, I said look at me."

Dean meets his brother's fierce glare and Sam sees that his eyes are glistening.

"I've _always_ been proud to be your brother, Dean. I still am and I _always_ will be."

He laughs again but it still sounds wrong.

"Don't you _know_ that, man? I mean isn't it obvious?"

There's a brief pause as Sam allows his words to sink into his brother's thick skull and then he speaks again his voice still stern if a little thick and his words come out hurried because if he doesn't say it quickly then he may not finish at all.

"And another thing. All these years you have _never - not once_ let me down so you'd better get that into your head, cos if I _ever_ hear you talking like that again..."

"Don't tell me – you'll kick my ass."

Sam nods.

"_Right_."

Dean searches his brother's eyes for any hint of falsity, but he is forced to accept that all he sees is raw honesty and truth and although he attempts to hold his brother's gaze a little longer he can't help but falter when the full weight of Sam's words hit him, shattering his resolve and he looks back at his hands his face tightening and he tries so hard to blink back the fresh set of tears that have now appeared.

Sam loosens his grip on his brother's shoulder but leaves it there not wanting to break contact and sensing his brother needs it as much as he does and then he waits as Dean wipes at his eyes once more as the last of his tears escape and he looks back at him, his eyes still bright but his lips twitching slightly and Sam grins as he recognises the familiar mischievous glint in his brother's glassy eyes.

"Bitch."

And then Sam laughs, his face crinkling and his eyes sparkling.

"Jerk."

Dean knocks Sam's hand away in mock irritation.

"Get off me you wuss."

And then they are silent knowing they don't need to say any more as Sam changes his position to sit at his brother's side while Dean feigns irritation when Sam indicates for him to move up and give him more room.

They lounge comfortably side by side on Dean's bed and Sam uses the previously useless but now fully functional remote to turn on the TV and then leans back smugly on to the head board much to his brother's annoyance. They remain there for some time not really watching the late night film which is in French anyway and just content to share each other's company and the bag of potato chips that Dean has pulled out of his bag. Their shoulders touch and Dean allows the contact to distract him from the wars that still rage inside him, until sleep finally takes him and his head rolls on to Sam's shoulder.

Sam pretends not to notice and carries on munching and then after a few moments looks down and rolls his eyes.

"Dude you so better not be drooling on my shirt."

He looks back at the TV sighing before turning it of and looks down at the exhausted pile of sleeping sibling leaning on him. He closes his eyes and hoping that Dean won't awaken he leans down and gently kisses the top of his brother's head, not really caring about how Dean would kill him dead if he ever found out.

He's reluctant to move and risk disturbing Dean but he concedes that he too needs to sleep and so takes the weight of his brother's upper body in his arms, gently lays him flat on the bed and covers him with a blanket before going to his own bed too tired to undress and he lies there watching his brother sleep until slumber claims him also.

-----------------------------------

In the morning Sam and Dean call at Rick's to say their goodbyes and Rick gives them their - in his opinion - well earned pay and his warm thanks telling them to keep in touch and to look after each other. The brothers return their thanks and head back into town to meet with Bobby.

The three hunters get back on the road in their respective vehicles and steadily make their way across the country until it is time for them to go their own ways. Stopping to re fuel at a gas station, the three men take time to say farewell and Dean feels a little sad because for a short time he didn't feel so alone and now Bobby has to leave them and it's up to him to be the strong one again.

Dean shakes hands with the older hunter first but Bobby pulls him into a fierce hug which Dean returns without a hint of hesitation until Bobby releases him lightly smacking his cheek affectionately.

"Keep your eyes off the floor son, you hear me?"

Dean simply nods understanding the order and expresses his gratitude with a look that Bobby understands just as accurately.

"Behave yourself and don't forget what I told you."

Dean won't forget although he wishes he could forget a lot of what has happened recently but he knows that he owes it to Sam and the older hunter to try and obey the order that Bobby gave him when he was sat on the floor that night trying to fight back tears of shame and grief and he winces at the memory but nods letting Bobby know he will try.

And then Bobby turns to Sam and gives him an equally fierce hug, ruffles his hair and gives him an order of his own.

"Don't you be taking any shit from your big brother from now on Sam. And if he doesn't behave you give me a call, you hear?"

Sam grins and Dean looks embarrassed but manages a brief smirk and then Bobby suddenly turns serious not mock serious but really serious and Sam's grin fades as he locks eyes with the older hunter as Bobby addresses them both this time.

"Next time you boys need help _-_ and I mean with _anything_ - you don't wait until everything's gone to hell, you pick up that phone and you call me. Understand?"

The brothers answer in unison Dean feeling the impending weight and feeling of isolation that was threatening to return retreat a little.

"Yes sir."

And then he leaves them to make their own way while he makes his and he hopes that they know that they're not alone.

--------------------------------------

That night in a new motel room in a new town the brothers lie in their beds staring at the ceiling sharing memories of their parents attempting to chase away the demons that had plagued them the last few weeks.

Dean relays to his brother a particularly amusing tale from when Sam was still a baby, involving their dad, a bucket of wall paper paste and their neighbour's dog. As he finishes the story he's worn out from laughing and apparently so is Sam and he wipes away the tears sighing as he realises that that was the last time he could remember his mother laughing uncontrollably, the sound like the most unearthly kind of music, soothing and beautiful and he wishes more than anything he could hear it one last time.

Sam looks over at him his own laughter finally dying as he notices his brother's mood change and detects something in his voice.

"I was thinking about what you said?"

Sam turns on to his side propping up his head with his hand and looks at is brother questioningly.

"When you said you wished more than anything that Dad was still here."

"What about it?"

"You wanna know what I wish for? I mean more than _anything_?"

"What?"

"I wish that Mom was still alive. I wish the demon had never chosen us and that we'd never become hunters. You and Jess - you could've lived out your lives oblivious to all... this. Dad would've still been here, we would never even know that demons existed. We would've been normal. A family."

"Hmm," Sam smiled sadly, "You know what the trouble with wishes is though Dean?"

"No, but I'm sensing you're going to tell me,"

"They pretty much never come true."

Dean snorts.

"No, I guess not."

"Besides, normal kinda doesn't suit us right?"

Dean says nothing but smiles sadly closing his eyes. Nothing about them and their lives is normal. It isn't normal to be living with constant guilt and fear that tomorrow might grant you your last chance or that tomorrow your mistakes may be the death of you or that tomorrow you had to wake up with the knowledge that your little brother may become the opposite of what he is and that you may have to kill him and knowing that you would rather die than do that. Dean says nothing though knowing that this burden is his and his alone and can't be shared. This is something that Sam can't help him with and it at least makes him feel a little more in control knowing he still has this responsibility even if he hasn't exactly earned it lately.

He's happy that he can still protect Sam and keep him ignorant of this latest lonely war he has to fight and feels grateful that at least he can protect him from this and it gives him some peace and it aids his descent into sleep and dreams where death and fear and pain can't find him and his brother's eyes are free of the horrors that they had both bore witness to over the years.

The morning will come and with it this latest battle to keep Sam safe and in the dark about his secret, and the knowledge that he has no choice but to survive and continue, but for now, the dreams would do.

End

_I always said I wouldn't include a "Bitch"/"Jerk" moment cos it gets used so many times but what can I say – I caved – I am weak. _

_Thanks to everyone who had the patience to stick with this to the end and espesh to everyone who left comments – you made my day. If you didn't comment yet I wouldn't mind at all if you did hint hint_

_Hope you enjoyed anyway – thanks again._


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